Bad Connection
by jory7elefant
Summary: In a world where you know who your soul mate is by making eye contact with them, Kurt Hummel is about to get the shock of a lifetime. Badboy!Blaine.  Kurt's POV of my story Rainbow Connection, can be read alone!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: This is my attempt at a multi-chapter story. Takes place in the second season, sometime right after Puck gets out of Juvie. Told from Kurt's point of view, but I have Blaine's point of view written as well, which I guarantee is very different than this.**

**~.~.~.~**

Glee Club began as it normally did: with a healthy dose of drama.

It was something that all of us had become acquainted with since we joined, and some of us (*cough*, Rachel) liked to cause on a weekly basis. We took it in stride, accepting that it was one of the byproducts of mixing so many different cliques together, but some weeks were just worse than others.

Take now, for example.

Puck presently stormed into the choir room, looking livid as a bull. I could practically see the steam huffing from his flared nostrils as he dropped into a chair, arms crossed and expression menacing.

"I like to keep the 'glee' in 'Glee Club' as much as the next girl, but _what _is your problem?" Mercedes demanded from her seat beside me.

"That new kid is the problem!" Puck quipped immediately, as if he'd been waiting all day for someone to ask him. "He's ruining my reputation as McKinley's resident badass!" He kicked the empty chair beside him with his boot-clad foot, making it screech across the floor.

"You mean that Anderson guy?" Santana gasped, fanning herself. "Now that's a hunk I wants a bite of!" Brittany giggled.

I rolled my eyes at their simplicity; often times it seemed like I was the only mature student at this school. Personally, I blamed it on Connections. Once someone made a Connection, it made him or her lose sight of what was important because they were too busy making googly-eyes at their soul mate.

Most of the Glee Club was already paired up: Rachel with Finn, Sam with Mercedes, Mr. Shue with Ms. Pillsbury, Tina with Mike…even Santana and Brittany had Connected with each other, though both of them liked to swing a bit, hence Santana's comment about the new student. All that was left was Artie, Puck, Quinn, and I.

It wasn't like I didn't _want _a soul mate (while shallow, Connected people were very happy). It was just that for now I took pride in being my own person. It was getting more and more difficult to be proud, though; Karofsky's bullying was steadily escalating and I couldn't help but wish somebody cared enough to notice.

"What's so bad about the new kid that would tarnish _your _reputation, Noah?" Rachel droned, bringing me out of my depressing thoughts. "You just got out of _Juvie."_

"That's how I know him!" Puck raged, gesturing wildly with his hands. "He was the dude that kept taking my waffles! He would follow me around the mess hall, bearing down on me like a rabid dog! I heard from the other guys that he's been in and out ever since middle school for all kinds of stuff. Stealing mostly, but also assault, battery…my guess is he just got expelled from his old school and that's why he transferred here."

Not many people seemed interested in Puck's story, deferring to phones and homework, but that didn't seem to discourage him. His tale had taken on a ghost story feel by the time Mr. Shue walked in, half of us yawning already.

When lunchtime finally arrived it was a blessing, as it usually was after listening to Mr. Shuester's repetitive lesson plans.

I hadn't even sat down with my salad between Mercedes and Tina before I was being force-fed the newest bit of gossip from Santana. Apparently one of the Cheerios had Connected to a Russian exchange student the previous period, all of the girls immediately taking it upon themselves to spread the news.

"Aww!" Mercedes and Tina cooed in unison, and I had to use all of my self-control not to roll my eyes.

"Oh please," I said exasperatedly. "It seems rather silly, doesn't it? I mean, _one look _and you automatically know you're supposed to be with someone forever? How the hell does that even work, anyway?"

"Why question it?" Rachel laughed, oblivious to my bitterness. "It's amazing, Kurt, really! Before I met Finn I thought it would just get in the way of my career, but…he's worth it, even if I don't become a big star. Which I will, by the way."

I sighed, recognizing that Rachel had gone into "lovey-dovey mode", as I liked to call it. I tuned her out, glancing absently around the cafeteria.

Honestly, it hit me like lightning. It made me forget absolutely everything, isolating that single, split-second moment, making it seem like the most important of my life. I instantly knew that every memory I would ever have would be classified as either before or after this snapshot of time.

The cause: eyes.

But not just any eyes, of course not. These were undeniably the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen. As soon as I saw them I knew them better than my own. They were mostly gold, but with streaks of coffee brown that bled nicely from the pupils, reminding me of tree branches. Dark green dappled the irises like leaves, all of it blending together and glinting in the sunlight coming in the window, framed by long, soft lashes.

It felt like a long time before I could tear my own eyes away to look at the person harboring those masterpieces, though in reality it was only a fraction of a second. I blinked and the magic of that golden moment was gone, because the person attached to those eyes was the last one I expected.

He had curly hair that could've been either dark brown or black, sticking out in all directions and slightly overhanging the most interesting eyebrows I'd ever seen. They were onyx and almost perfectly triangular, thick and presently furrowed over his eyes. My gaze trailed down his prominent olive-toned cheekbones to follow the definition of his stubble-dusted jaw to his full lips, slightly agape, but it was the rest of his appearance that really shocked me.

A very worn-out brown leather jacket covered his shoulders, unbuttoned to show a gray form-fitting tee shirt beneath it. Dark stonewashed jeans clung to his legs, bunched around the ankles over dirty green Converse. The glint of metal could be seen all over him, a few thick bands on his fingers, but also a small hoop and a stud on his eyebrow, three rings in one earlobe and a stud in the cartilage of the other.

I was quickly brought back to Earth. I realized what was going on, remembered where I was, but most of all figured out exactly who and what this person was.

My soul mate. I had just Connected, but it wasn't as I imagined it would be. There was no slow-motion run into each other's arms, no soft piano music in the background, no tears shed because of all the years we'd spent waiting for each other. There was just blank staring, accompanied with the clear understanding that we weren't what the other had expected.

The longer we held each other's gaze, the angrier he seemed to get. His expressive, studded eyebrows became black angry brushstrokes splashed on by a careless artist, casting dark shadows over his previously sunlit eyes. His lips closed and jaw clenched, expression turning menacing as he turned on his heel and walked away.

"Kurt?"

I wasn't sure which one of the girls had spoken. Their voice seemed unnaturally loud, ringing in my ears.

"I-I have to go," I stammered, my voice seeming so quiet and weak in comparison. I shouldered my schoolbag and stood clumsily, ignoring their words of confusion as I left the cafeteria in the opposite direction that _he _had.

Getting slushies tossed in my face on a regular basis had one upside, and that was the development of the ability to find my way to the nearest bathroom with my eyes closed. The moment I reached the door I shoved it open and quickly checked the stalls before locking it behind me. Dropping my bag on the tile floor, I braced myself on the edge of a sink, feeling sick. I chanced a glance in the mirror, my reflection a pitiful mess of tears and red, puffy eyes.

This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. This wasn't right, it _couldn't _be happening, and yet I knew it was. That moment had been too real for this to be a dream, or a nightmare, or whatever other name I might come up with.

He had to be that delinquent Puck was talking about. Not just because of the fact that I'd never seen him before, but because I just _knew._ I knew he was Blaine Anderson, there was no –

Wait, _Blaine?_ Where did that come from? I had only ever heard his last name when Santana mentioned it, but I was _certain_ he was called Blaine.

A teardrop fell into the porcelain sink as I drew a few shuddering breaths, trying to calm myself down. This had to be some mistake, a sick joke; Blaine _couldn't _be my soul mate, could he? I would never…he'd been arrested for assault and battery, for god's sake!

I started hyperventilating and I could feel my knees wobbling, threatening to give out. I had to get out of here. I couldn't risk seeing him again, seeing the disgust and anger in those beautiful eyes because my own _soul mate _couldn't stand to look at me. I just needed to go home and…think or something, do anything to clear my head long enough to formulate a plan of action. I didn't now what the hell I could do to help the situation, but still.

I grabbed my bag and left the bathroom, marching straight down the hall with my eyes on the floor, though the place was empty. Soon enough I was in my car, driving home in a daze. There was no one home when I got there, and I gratefully went downstairs to collapse onto my bed, staring at the ceiling.

How was I supposed to deal with this? I'd never heard of anyone's soul mate immediately hating him or her…but then again, did I even like _him?_

Well, of course I couldn't _really _say; I barely knew the guy, after all. But honestly, wasn't a criminal record enough to know he wasn't the kind of person I wanted to get involved with? If he could scare Puck…I shuddered to think what he might be like.

Then again, people didn't just randomly Connect. It formed a bond between two people, as was proved by my spontaneous knowledge of Blaine's name. We wouldn't Connect unless we were meant to be together. But if that was true, _why did we hate each other?_

I huffed a sigh, rolling onto my side and trying to untangle the knot that was my jumbled thoughts. Maybe it just wasn't the right time. Perhaps Blaine would mature in years to come, get out of his rebellious phase, and then we could be together.

At least, that's what I told myself to get through the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: I'm so happy this story received such enthusiastic response! You can expect updates about every Thursday. I actually have most of the story handwritten already, so I just have to type it up and edit it. Here's a longer chapter than the first, hope you like it :)**

**~.~.~.~**

I forced myself to go to school the next day, despite the risk of seeing Blaine again. It didn't help that I was exhausted; sleep last night had been restless, complete with unfamiliar dreams that made me wake up suddenly every hour or so. They weren't normal dreams, just a swirl of brown and green against bright gold, calming and almost hypnotic. There was a voice humming in the background, words indistinct, but the tone was unmistakable. Whoever was speaking was very hurt, on the verge of tears, so pitiful that more than once I woke up to find myself crying.

Presently I was yawning my way to the cafeteria, my eyes trained on the floor in case I passed Blaine on the way. I skipped getting my usual salad, preferring to go right to my table with the members of Glee.

"Why did you rush out yesterday?" Mercedes asked as I took a seat next to her, burying my head in my hands.

"It's a long story," I sighed, not really in the mood to explain anything at the moment.

"Would it have anything to do with that Henderson guy?" she wondered. "You were totally checking him out right before you left."

"Anderson," I corrected automatically, busying myself readjusting the strap on my satchel so I could avoid looking her in the face. "And I don't know yet."

"What do you mean you don't know? Does it or doesn't it?"

"It's complicated."

"Sheesh, could you be any more cryptic?" she laughed, dissolving the tension. She then proceeded to tell me what I missed in Math the day before. I was grateful for the subject change.

I kept my eyes riveted to Mercedes all throughout lunch, refusing to look at anyone else, and thus didn't see whether or not Blaine was here.

When the bell rang I walked beside Mercedes to Math, the only class we had together besides Glee, chatting and nearly forgetting about my Connection situation.

Math ended with me deciding that this school was far too easy for me, bidding Mercedes goodbye so I could go to English. I had a gift for languages so this was my best class besides French, but that also meant it was the most boring. At least in French I was learning new things, whereas in English I just monotonously wrote out repetitive persuasive essays.

I took my seat near the back, writing down the day's assignment from the board as the rest of the students slowly trickled in, the classroom growing steadily louder. The bell rang and Mr. Randy tried to quiet them down with little success. He was just explaining the agenda for the day when the door opened.

Shit.

Blaine walked in quietly, head down and shoulders hunched, and I felt my heart clench. I was frozen, unable to look away from him and grateful he wasn't looking at me.

"Ah, you must be Mr. Anderson," the teacher muttered disapprovingly. "Glad you decided to join us today, although I expected you yesterday."

He'd been skipping class. Figures.

"Since both you and Mr. Hummel were absent when we partnered up for peer editing our persuasive essays, you can work with him," Mr. Randy continued. My eyes widened at his words, Blaine growing unnaturally still. "Mr. Hummel, will you please raise your hand so Mr. Anderson knows where he'll be sitting?"

It took me a moment to register the balding man's words, but by the time my hand moved Blaine was already trudging towards me, taking a seat at the empty desk to my left. He didn't so much as glance in my direction, glaring at the tabletop instead.

Mr. Randy finished talking to the class and once they were set to work, he came back to help Blaine and I, paper in hand.

"Yesterday we peer edited out persuasive essay rough drafts," he explained quietly. "Mr. Anderson, you'll have to write one for homework since you just transferred." He gave Blaine a hard look and placed the assignment sheet on his desk. "Once you've done that, you two need to get together on your own time to edit each other's. Today we're working on this." He put a packet of questions on the book we were assigned to read in front of each of us. "Do you need a copy of the book, Mr. Anderson?"

"I've read it," he said in response. I jumped a little at the sound of his voice, having never heard Blaine speak before. It was rich and low and textured but somehow soft, like black coffee.

I barely noticed that Mr. Randy had walked back to his desk, hyperaware of the boy beside me as he hastily scribbled the answers on the worksheet. I felt completely and utterly lost, clueless as to how to go about this. I wondered for a moment if I should bring up what happened the day before, but judging by the cold shoulder he was giving me (well, everybody), it wasn't up for discussion.

We did need to edit our essays, though, and that would be slightly difficult to arrange if we weren't speaking to each other.

"So," I began awkwardly. Blaine's hand didn't pause. "Should we meet at the public library after school Friday?"

"Thursday," he said firmly, sounding aggravated. "I'll be done by then."

"I can't Thursday, I have Glee rehearsal."

"Tomorrow, then."

I sighed heavily, his anger rubbing off on me. "Fine. Meet me there at four." Blaine nodded, still hunched over his work.

It was going to be a long couple of days.

~.~.~.~

"Wanna go shopping after school today?" Mercedes asked me the next day in Math.

"I can't," I groaned tiredly. I had the same dream again last night, getting only slightly more sleep as I did the one before. "I have to work on a school project tomorrow at the library, and then I promised Carole I'd help cook dinner."

"You hate the library," she recalled. "You say it smells like old people and the eighties furniture doesn't go with your skin tone."

"Of course it doesn't, it's _orange," _I muttered offhandedly. "And I don't really have a choice, that's where I'm meeting my project partner. It's better than working on it at his house.

"'His'?" she repeated suggestively, grinning. "Who is he?"

I sighed, knowing I would have to tell her sooner or later. "Blaine. Blaine Anderson."

Mercedes' eyes widened. "Whoa, the one Puck keeps going on about that you were checking out on Monday?"

"I wasn't checking him out."

"Sure you weren't. Kurt, I don't think you should hang around him, he's bad news. Have you _seen _him? I just don't want you to get hurt-"

"I Connected, Cedes," I said sharply, turning away from my textbook to look at her for the first time during the conversation. Her brown eyes were wide with shock, mouth hanging open.

"With…with _him?"_ she stammered, confused. I nodded bitterly, looking down again. "But…how, I mean…he's not-"

"I know," I snapped, then immediately felt guilty for being rude. "Sorry. I'm just incredibly stressed about this. I don't' know what to do…"

"Hey, it's okay," she said comfortingly. "If you're meant to be together, it'll happen. Don't get your scarf in a knot over it."

Her words comforted me immensely, more than anything thus far. I could already feel the building tension in my muscles slacken.

"Thanks Mercedes," I said with a smile. "This is why you're such a fabulous friend." She grinned proudly.

Blaine didn't speak to me at all in English, which thanks to Mercedes' advice, I was fine with. At this point, I wasn't even sure that Blaine talking to me would be a good thing.

That didn't mean I was completely oblivious to him, though. In fact I had started paying more attention to him, and I noticed a few things. One, he was very smart, or at least good at English, judging by how quickly he completed his work. Two, he didn't have a lot of clothes. He always wore the same leather jacket, jeans, and shoes, only visibly alternating his shirt. It wasn't a very important detail, but one that I noticed because of my affinity for fashion. Blaine didn't appear to have a lick of it, but somehow his style suited him.

The third thing I noticed was the most confusing. Despite Blaine's confident, bad-boy appearance and Puck's numerous stories, he appeared extremely withdrawn. Not just the I-hate-the-world kind of withdrawn, but as if he was scared or shy. I immediately put this theory to rest, however, when he practically growled at Azimio in the cafeteria for making fun of his height, or lack thereof. The jock was nearly two feet taller than Blaine and about three times as wide, but he still stood his ground regardless of his disadvantage. Maybe Blaine just hated talking to people.

I knew in advance that the library was going to be awkward, to put it lightly, but that didn't make it any better as I pulled into the small parking lot. I had to steel myself for a few minutes before I actually convinced myself to get _out _of the car, walking through the front doors into the stuffy, unnaturally quiet building. I wrinkled my nose at the smell, which was indeed reminiscent of the elderly, and made my way past the bookshelves to the empty tables at the back.

Blaine was already seated at the one furthest in the corner, eyes downcast and essay on the table before him. He looked strangely resigned, like all the fight had left him, not at all matching the rough nature of his clothes and multiple piercings.

I cleared my throat as I approached, not wanting to startle him. He didn't even look up. I sat beside him and pulled my English folder from my bag, fishing out my rough draft.

"Okay," I said uncomfortably, wondering if he thought this was as awkward as it was for me. "Here's my essay, so…I guess we should get started."

Blaine nodded and slid his papers towards me, taking mine and beginning to read it over. I followed suit, trying to read his miniscule, heavy-set writing, far different from my light, loopy scrawl. Once I got used to it, I discovered he was incredibly intelligent, as I had suspected. His paragraphs were extremely concise and thought-out, making me want to comment on it, but I was too nervous. I'd probably be ignored if I said anything anyway.

We worked in silence for a while, occasionally penning notes in the margins, settling into a more comfortable state. No one came back to bother us, for which I was grateful. As I became more relaxed, I let my curious thoughts wander. I honestly couldn't understand why Blaine was so cold to me. I wasn't sure how much longer I could take not knowing, despite Mercedes' words from earlier.

Blaine abruptly pushed away my essay and began packing up his things. I could see clearly that he was done, but I hadn't finished editing his paper yet.

"Don't you want to wait until I'm finished?" I asked cautiously, though slightly irritated by his rudeness.

"Can't," he said shortly, not looking at me. "I have a bus to catch. Give it to me tomorrow."

I stared at him for a second as he shouldered his bag, unable to stop myself from muttering my next words.

"Look, I know I'm not exactly the kind of person you wanted to Connect to, but that doesn't mean you have to hate me."

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't," he snarled back, still not letting his eyes wander anywhere near me.

"You don't know me!" I said incredulously, getting angry now. "How can you hate me?"

Blaine immediately stopped what he was doing and turned to me, looking me directly in the eye for the first time since we Connected.

"Maybe it's because I thought my _soul mate _of all people would be the _one person _that wouldn't judge me the second they saw me."

His words hit me like a slap in the face, leaving me dumbstruck for several moments while we just stared at each other. Despite how infuriated his words had been, Blaine's eyes were brimming with tears, but he bravely held my gaze. He looked so hurt, so lost as he looked at me, visibly trembling, that I immediately regretted everything I'd thought of him before.

"Blaine," I murmured, my voice catching in my throat, not knowing what else there was to say.

"Don't try to deny it," he snapped, still angry. "I saw the look of disgust on your face, it's the way _everyone _looks at me-"

"I'm not denying it," I said quickly but firmly. "I'm trying to apologize, Blaine. You're right. I'm sorry and it won't happen again."

Blaine eyed me suspiciously for a long time, evidently trying to decide if I was being truthful or not, eyes narrowing as he scrutinized me.

"Look," I sighed when he didn't say anything else. "You're not exactly what I was expecting either. Well, actually you're not at all what I was expecting, but I want to get to know you, Blaine. The real you."

He didn't move, seeming to mull over my words. I decided he needed some time alone and got up to leave with my things.

"I didn't _expect _to Connect at all."

Blaine's words stopped me when I'd only gotten a few feet away. When I turned to look at him, he was staring solemnly at the faux wood grain of the table.

"But I always hoped to Connect to someone like you," he said even quieter.

It was the most kindhearted thing I'd ever heard him say, though granted he hadn't said all that much to me. Still, it was a complete one-eighty from how he'd been treating me before. I mentally slapped myself for having ever judged him.

"I'm honored," I told him. Blaine's eyes flicked up to mine for a brief second and then back down. He seemed to struggle with words for a moment.

"I guess I misjudged you too," he muttered.

Maybe there was hope for us yet.

**~.~.~.~**

**Author's note: Tell me what you think; remember a review equals a preview of the next chapter! By the way, did anyone notice the A Very Potter Musical moment I slipped in there? ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: I'm overjoyed with the reception of this story! You guys deserve an extra long chapter, I think :)**

**~.~.~.~**

Our little, erm, _conversation_ went on just long enough for Blaine to miss his bus home. He had actually insisted on walking home before I convinced him to let me drive him. We'd finished faster than I thought we would, so my dad wasn't expecting me home for another half an hour.

Sitting in the car wasn't as tense as the library, having reached a kind of truce with each other. We didn't speak much, only enough for Blaine to give me directions to his house.

I noticed that we were steadily getting closer to the worse end of town, houses looking shabbier and shabbier, shrinking in size and looking more overgrown, paint chipping. Blaine's lack of variation in clothing suddenly made more sense.

Eventually Blaine's route led me to the entrance of a dingy apartment complex. People were sitting on broken concrete steps smoking or drinking, watching my car as it went past. I realized how out of place my shiny Navigator must look, shrinking back into my seat. Blaine avoided my eyes, clearly self-conscious.

I pulled up to the apartment building on the left as Blaine instructed, my car slightly lopsided on the cracked pavement. Blaine quickly retrieved his bag from the backseat, seeming in a hurry to get out.

"Bye, Kurt," he muttered, quickly but not unkindly. It occurred to me how strange it was to hear him say my name when I'd never told him what it was. Maybe he instinctively knew it, like I had with his name.

"Bye Blaine."

~.~.~.~

When I got home Carole and Finn were already there. I was used to them showing up at my house at random times, but I'd been unreasonably edgy the entire drive back, so I jumped a little when Finn came around the corner of the hallway.

"Whoa, you okay dude?" Finn half-laughed when I got a grip.

"I'm fine," I replied a little breathlessly.

But I really wasn't. I was unexplainably anxious, almost scared, in spite of the fact that I knew it was completely irrational.

Carole was already in the kitchen making lasagna. I went to help her, as I promised I would, fastening my apron and sidling up next to her at the counter. My heart still hadn't slowed to its normal pace.

I hadn't told my father about Blaine yet. Honestly I didn't know if there _was _anything to tell at this point, and after his heart attack, the last thing he needed was to stress about me Connecting to a juvenile delinquent.

My feelings of stress didn't fade. In actuality they seemed to be slowly escalating as I put the dish in the oven. I recoiled from the heat that poured out when I swung open the door, as if I'd never used an oven before.

"Honey, are you okay?" Carole asked me as I shut the oven, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"I-I don't know," I faltered, extremely overwhelmed.

"Why don't you go lie down? I'll finish this up," she offered comfortingly, looking worried. I nodded gratefully and headed to my basement bedroom, collapsing onto the bed and trying to slow my racing heart.

What was happening to me? Was this how my dad felt right before he had his heart attack? Oh Gaga, I hadn't inherited heart problems, had I?

But this didn't feel like a heart problem. It wasn't like it was having trouble pumping, and I wasn't dizzy like I would be if my brain wasn't getting enough oxygen. It just felt like…like when I saw Karofsky coming in my direction down the hall, or when he shoved me into a locker. I was _frightened_, getting the strange urge to jump up and defend myself, though there was no danger in sight. I'd heard of people having panic attacks, but this didn't seem as serious as those could be.

As I lay contemplating, I heard the door at the top of the stairs open and soft footfalls on the steps, lighter than Dad's or Finn's.

Carole came into view after a moment, smiling as she sat on the bed beside me. I sat up and she pressed a hand to my forehead.

"How are you feeling?" she asked in that gentle, motherly way of hers.

"I'm just…" I sighed heavily, trying to find the right words, though my thoughts were becoming more frantic and jumbled by the minute.

"Scared?" she suggested knowingly. "Worried? Fidgety?"

"Yes," I said incredulously. "How did you know, is it that obvious?" She laughed warmly.

"Sweetheart, did you Connect?" Carole asked bluntly. My eyes widened, which was apparently a good enough answer for her. "I thought so," she smiled. "Who's the lucky guy?"

"H-his name's Blaine," I stuttered, still trying to figure out how she knew.

Carole nodded understandingly. "That explains the anxiety you're feeling," she assured me. "When you Connect with someone, you're not just finding your soul mate. You create a strong bond with that person, strong enough that when they feel a really powerful emotion, sometimes you feel it too. You should've seen me when Christopher was in Iraq, I was a complete wreck!"

Finn's father was the first person Carole had Connected to, and only years later had she been able to reConnect with my dad. If the person you were Connected with died, you could have a chance to reConnect, which wasn't as strong as Connecting and required physical contact to trigger instead of just eye contact. My father had first Connected with my mother, Elizabeth.

"Have you been having strange dreams too?" she wondered. "Swirling colors and dim voices?"

I nodded furiously, so glad this was all making sense now.

"That's not unusual. It's just a subconscious link to your significant other. In a few months you'll be able to dream normally again, but you and Blaine will have the same dreams."

I took deep breaths, trying my hardest to absorb everything she was saying, but it was getting difficult. Carole noticed my distress, rubbing my arm comfortingly.

"Whatever Blaine is going through right now, it's enough to transfer to you," she murmured. "It must be pretty serious; you're acting almost as bad as I was during the war. Just hang in there and try to stay calm."

I nodded, though staying calm was proving extremely difficult, considering I was having fear literally forced upon me.

"I won't tell Burt, by the way," Carole said quietly.

"Thanks."

"Come on up when you're ready, the food's almost done."

~.~.~.~

By the time dinner was over I was still feeling worried, but also extremely worn-out. Whether those were Blaine's feelings or mine was anyone's guess.

What the hell was making Blaine feel this way? It was really concerning me, which was saying something considering all the other things I was feeling. If Carole felt much like this when her husband was at _war, _then what was my soul mate going through?

I decided that stressing about it wouldn't do either of us any good. If Blaine could worry me then I could calm him down, right?

I laid down on my bed, getting as comfortable as possible and putting in my earbuds. I switched my iPod to my "favorites" playlist, the Wicked soundtrack coming on first. I closed my eyes and focused on the music, something that always relaxed me. I usually exercised as well to relieve stress, but my knee was sore, which was odd because I didn't remember hurting it.

That night when I slept, the dream voice was quiet and timid, sometimes crying, but I didn't wake up as frequently as I normally did. The voice needed me to stay in sleep with it, and somehow I couldn't say no to it.

~.~.~.~

When Blaine came to school the next day, he was limping.

It looked as if he'd hurt his left leg, which was weird because that was the same leg with my mysteriously hurt knee. I made a mental note to ask Carole if wounds could be transferred between soul mates as well as emotions.

I was about to sit down with the people in Glee at lunch like I normally did when I caught sight of Blaine. He was at a table by himself in the corner, his posture reminding me of how defeated he looked at the library the day before. I froze in the act of sitting down beside Mercedes, my eyes on him.

"You okay?" Cedes asked me, leaning forward in an attempt to catch my eye.

"I'm gonna go sit with Blaine today," I said, deciding to do so and letting her know simultaneously.

"Okay," she replied, sounding as dubious as I felt. I took a deep breath and picked my tray back up off the table, making my way over to Blaine and glaring at anyone that stared at me. He glanced up as I came over, looking surprised.

"Mind if I sit here?" I asked, gesturing to the spot across from him. He shook his head and I took a seat, setting down my bag and food. It was quiet for a while before he spoke.

"Why aren't you sitting with your friends?" he asked quietly. For some reason the question sounded depressingly self-depreciating, like he wasn't considered important as well. He was my _soul mate, _for goodness sake.

"Like I said, I want to get to know you," I said simply, stabbing some lettuce with my plastic fork. "Besides, you looked lonely over here." Blaine's eyes fell to his food as I said that last part. He really wasn't used to being noticed, was he?

"What do you want from me, Kurt?" he said after a moment, sounding a little angry but with an undertone of hurt. "My life isn't exactly a fairytale; I can't be your Prince Charming or whatever."

"I'm not expectinganything from you, Blaine," I told him. "Let's just get to know each other, and then…we'll see what happens. No pressure or anything."

Blaine sighed heavily and to me it looked like he was preparing himself for something. He eventually brought his eyes up to mine again.

"I'm assuming the first thing you want to know is why I've been to juvie so many times," he guessed bitterly.

"You assume correctly."

He gave a harsh, short laugh, twisting one of the silver bands on his fingers.

This was what had really worried me about Connecting to Blaine. Just because we were soul mates didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. Somehow I felt like knowing about it would make it better.

"The stealing is a long story," Blaine began. "But the assault and battery…" He steeled himself for a few moments before continuing, dropping his voice to almost a whisper. "I was bullied at my old school for being gay and…other reasons, and at one point it got pretty physical. I was just trying to give them what they gave me, but what I didn't know was that one of the guys had a big-shot lawyer for an uncle."

I thought over his words for a moment, actually surprised by the mediocrity of it. He wasn't ready to explain the charges of theft to me yet, and that was okay. It was really the assault and battery I had been concerned about.

"I was actually glad I transferred here," Blaine continued. "No one here knows I'm gay, but of course that'll be out the window soon."

"I won't tell anyone about this, you know," I told him quietly. "It's probably for the best. I'm the only 'out' guy at this school and I'm bullied constantly. Santana and Brittany are the only other gay couple, but they're Cheerios and girls, which I guess gives them special privileges."

"How bad is it?" Blaine asked earnestly, leaning forward. "The bullying, I mean."

"Not as bad as it could be. I know I'm lucky it's not worse, but…" I trailed off, not wanting to sound conceited.

"It doesn't mean that what you're getting isn't bad," Blaine finished for me, his words full of understanding.

"Wow," I laughed. "I'm not used to talking to someone who actually _knows _what I'm going through." He smiled ever so slightly at that, the closest I'd ever seen to a grin on his face. It suited him.

We talked for a while longer. I told him about my mother and how my dad was dating Carole, but he didn't want to say anything about his family. I assured him that was fine and the subject changed to music, which turned out to be one of his passions as well. We were discussing favorite artists when the bell rang, but as soon as English began we resumed our conversation.

When class ended, I grabbed my bag and shoved my way to the front of the room as everyone tried to squeeze out the door. I turned in my now peer-edited essay draft into the assignment bin on Mr. Randy's desk, bidding Blaine goodbye as he left with everyone else.

"Stay back a moment Mr. Hummel, I want to speak with you," Mr. Randy instructed. He leaned back in his ratty swiveling desk chair, twirling a pen between his fingers as the last of the students filed out. We were left in complete silence aside from the chatter in the hall and I waited for him to speak.

"I really wanted to apologize," he began, speaking in low tones. "I didn't mean for you to get stuck with Anderson for the peer editing assignment. I know he must have been hard to work with, but you were sick on the same day he skipped, so it was the most convenient solution."

I stared at him for a moment, wondering if this was some kind of test.

"Actually, I was skipping class as well," I said cautiously. "And…what makes you think he's hard to work with?"

"Well, these juvenile delinquents don't particularly like taking instruction, do they?" he replied, seeming somewhat confused by my question. "Are you familiar with Noah Puckerman? He's in my fourth period, just got out of juvie and has the lowest grade of any of my students."

"But Blaine is one of the most intelligent people I know," I said a little snappily, causing the teacher to raise his graying eyebrows. "I had no issues partnering with him, in fact his essay was superior to mine. I'm not sure what makes you think he's some sort of slacker."

"Mr. Hummel," he leaned forward, the pen stilling in his hands as he looked at me sternly. "I've been a teacher for thirty-five years, I know Mr. Anderson's type. He may be smart, but he's more likely to use that intellect to steal candy bars than pass exams."

"You may know Blaine's 'type', but you don't know _him," _I deadpanned. It occurred to me that I had never, _ever _spoken to a teacher that way (except Mr. Shue whilst trying to convince him to let us perform Britney Spears, but that didn't really count), but I couldn't make myself stop. "If there's anything that I've learned in this class, it's to not judge someone at first sight, no thanks to you."

Wanting to leave before my unfiltered words got me in any more trouble, I turned sharply on my heel and headed for the door. Of course, one more thing popped into my head before I could leave.

"And by the way," I shot over my shoulder. "In the future, I would be _honored _to be Blaine's partner."

I didn't realize the double meaning in that statement until I was in the car driving home.

~.~.~.~

I was in my room, reading the latest edition of _Vogue_, when Carole came down the stairs.

"Hey," she said gently, standing at the foot of the steps. "Mind if I come in?"

I motioned for her to sit on the bed and she stepped into the room, the mattress dipping as she took a seat beside me.

"Are you feeling any better than yesterday?" she wondered.

"Yes, but not by much," I admitted. Even now my heart seemed to be going twice its normal rate.

Carole took a deep breath, biting her lip as she thought something through.

"Honey, I think you need to talk to him about this," she said eventually. "This isn't normal – not the fact that you're feeling it too, but the fact that Blaine's feeling this at all. If something's going on at his home or with bullies at school that's making him feel this way, we need to tell someone."

"But there's no way to go about it," I explained tiredly, setting my magazine aside. "No one knows Blaine is gay, if we tell the school or the police or whatever that we think he's in danger, they'll want to know why. I can't tell them I'm Connected to him because that would be outing him. I _won't _do that to him."

Carole took in my determined expression, my jaw set and eyes locked on hers.

"If you feel any worse, we need to take action," she decided. I sighed with relief. "But you _have _to talk to him about this. This is serious, Kurt. He could be getting hurt."

"It might be nothing," I said with a shrug. "Maybe he's in a fight club or something."

"Why would he be in a fight club?"

"No reason," I said evasively, trying to make out like I was joking. In reality, that was actually the best hypothesis I'd come up with.

"When Chris was in Iraq, they taught me some breathing exercises and such that would keep the both of us calm while he was in combat," Carole told me. "If you want I can teach you some."

"That would be great."

~.~.~.~

Thankfully Mr. Randy seemed too shocked by my outburst to punish me for it, or maybe it was due to my squeaky-clean record. I had a feeling, though, that I wouldn't be considered one of his favorite students after this. Thank goodness Blaine edited my essay; otherwise the teacher might've found some excuse to fail me.

I didn't talk to Blaine about my continuing after-school anxiety. I knew I'd promised Carole, but Blaine and I had just gotten on speaking terms, and I didn't want to screw that up. I promised myself that if it ever got worse I'd talk to Blaine about it, but it never did.

A month passed and Blaine and I still sat together everyday at lunch, talking about likes and dislikes, but nothing too personal. I still felt the same irrational worry almost everyday after school, but I felt truly at ease when I was with Blaine, something I never thought I'd achieve in the presence of someone with a criminal record. I sincerely hoped he felt the same. I had actually gotten a little laugh out of him by the end of English on Friday, making me feel extremely accomplished.

"Do you wanna grab a coffee tomorrow or something?" Blaine asked me as we packed up our things.

"Sure," I replied, surprised by the request but pleased nonetheless. "I'll pick you up around three?"

"Sounds good."

~.~.~.~

The next day found me pulling into the parking lot of Blaine's apartment complex, cutting the engine and glancing around before getting out of the car. I wasn't taking any chances in a neighborhood like this.

I went up to the door and pressed the buzzer for apartment 3A, only realizing about five seconds later that Blaine had never told me which apartment he lived in.

This whole Connection thing would definitely take some getting used to.

Very suddenly the familiar anxiety set in, actually making me whimper with its intensity. The left side of my face was faintly prickling with pain as I checked over my shoulder to see if anyone was behind me. I regularly felt like this now, nearly everyday after school, but I never got used to it.

My heart was pounding by the time I saw Blaine running down the stairs through the glass door. He glanced behind him before throwing open the door, breathing heavily. His hand ran through his curls reflexively, his left cheek a raw red color.

"Blaine, what's going on?" I demanded. I had let him keep up his mysterious façade long enough, never questioning him about why he became so frightened after school, but enough was enough. He'd definitely been hurt this time.

"Nothing," Blaine said quickly, trying to get past me. I purposely stood in his way, determined.

"Don't 'nothing' me, Anderson," I snapped.

Blaine looked at me for a long moment, then back to the door of the apartment, and back at me. I could see the apprehension and fear in his eyes, but I _needed _to know.

"Not here," he eventually decided.

~.~.~.~

We got to the Lima Bean, waiting in line for our turn. Blaine hadn't said anything on the car ride over, but I hadn't expected him to.

It was our turn to order, Blaine stepping up to the counter.

"I'll have a medium drip, and a Grande non-fat mocha for him," Blaine told the barista. He started fishing for his wallet but I whipped mine out faster, handing the woman ten dollars. She gave me the change and we waited by the counter for our drinks.

"You didn't have to pay for that," Blaine muttered as they handed us the two steaming cups.

"I wanted to," I said sincerely as we took a seat at a table by the window. "But don't try to distract me. I know for a fact that your cheek is still hurting from getting slapped, what happened?"

"How did you know about that?"

"How did you know my coffee order?" I quipped.

Blaine sighed heavily, his eyes wandering to the people on the sidewalk outside, the merchandise stands, the ceiling – anywhere but me.

"It's not a big deal…" he grumbled.

"Yes it is a big deal!" I insisted. "I can feel you emotions, I _know _something happens to you nearly everyday after school that scares you half to death. If you're getting hurt, it's a big deal to _me, _Blaine."

He finally looked at me when I said that last part, shock coloring his features.

"You're my soul mate," I murmured, causing his eyes to drop back to the table, but I pressed on. "We may not know each other very well or be ready for a relationship, but the fact is you're important to me and I don't want you getting hurt."

Blaine continued to stare at the table, a faint bruise already forming where he'd hurt his face. I took a sip of my coffee and waited, knowing that patience was the key, just like that day in the library.

"I guess you're going to find out eventually, since we can practically read each other's minds," he said dryly after a while. He sighed, fiddling with one of the rings on his fingers, then looked up tentatively to meet my eyes.

"My dad isn't the most accepting person," he began. "At my old school I put my trust in the wrong person and they outed me to the whole student body. Like I told you before, I was bullied for it, and eventually the principal called my dad to tell him I was subject to homophobic bullying. Ever since he found out…things have been going downhill."

"What does he do to you, Blaine?" I asked quietly, leaning forward.

It took a moment before he answered, giving a nervous cough.

"Usually he hits me," he mumbled, sounding so vulnerable I wanted to hug him. "Sometimes he throws things. He's always drunk when he does it."

My heart wrenched at Blaine's words, tears threatening hotly at the back of my eyes. I could _feel_ how much this hurt him, how difficult it was for him to trust me enough to tell me these things. Many times I had thought about how lucky I was to have a dad that supported my sexuality; now I realized _exactly _how lucky I was. I couldn't imagine never having a safe place to go, never having anyone to turn to.

"I'm here, you know," I told him. "You don't have to go through this alone."

"Oh, like you know what I'm going through?" Blaine snapped, suddenly angry. I could practically see him throwing up his walls, protecting himself from further harm. People from surrounding tables glanced over briefly as he raised his voice. "Look at your life, you don't know how this feels. You don't know what it's like to have a parent love you one day and the next it's like you never had one-"

"My mother died when I was eight," I interrupted sharply. "I know my life isn't as bad as yours, Blaine, but that doesn't mean I can't help you."

Blaine watched me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. I took another drink of my cooling coffee, slightly uncomfortable under his gaze.

"Maybe I don't want your help," he said tonelessly after a while. "Maybe I don't wanna look like some pity-party worthy, abused kid from the poor side of town. Did you ever consider that?"

Without so much as a second glance at me, Blaine stood and stalked out, leaving his coffee on the table.

**~.~.~.~**

**REVIEW = PREVIEW**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Hey sorry guys this one's kind of short. I was going to add some stuff but I had to go to the hospital today :( There should be a longer one next week if all goes as planned. By the way if any of you are interested in reading one of my original works, I posted a story on Fiction Press called "Girl in the Pink Sunglasses".**

** Sorry for the long author's note, I love you all :)**

**~.~.~.~**

Honestly, I knew it was only a matter of time before something like this happened. Before Blaine shut me out, that is. I had planned to just leave him be and wait for him to calm down when it happened, but now that I knew his dad was hurting him, it wasn't really an option.

So when I saw him at school on Monday, I sat at his table at lunch just like every other day. Blaine glared at me over the tray of food he was hunched over.

"I need to talk to you," I said bluntly, leaning forward and resting my elbows on the table. He said nothing, dropping his eyes back to his nachos. "Blaine, if you're getting hurt by your father, I'm not just going to let you sulk. We have to do something about this."

He stayed silent, taking a huge bite of his cheese-covered chips, reminding me of Finn.

"Blaine, please listen to me," I nearly begged. Kurt Hummel did _not _beg. "I don't want anything to happen to you, especially with the knowledge that I could've done something to prevent it. We need to notify the police, or-"

"No!"

Blaine's head had suddenly snapped up, eyes wide and pleading as he said the exclamation.

"I-I mean…" he stammered, taking in my shocked expression. "Kurt, please don't call the cops, just…please…"

I could not understand this boy. I couldn't imagine why on Earth he wouldn't want to have a man that continuously beat him arrested, unless he wasn't being truthful with me about his father abusing him.

"Why not?" I asked suspiciously.

"Well…I'm not in any immediate danger," he said after a hesitation, making me think that he'd only just come up with that reason. "He needs me. I look fine, don't I? You can't even tell he hits me."

This was indeed true, but that was mostly because he had every inch of his skin covered up, save for his head and hands. Even if he did have a few cuts and bruises, it would just add to the rugged bad-boy look.

"Besides, who's gonna believe me?" Blaine continued. "With my criminal record, it's my word against his, and he's never been in trouble with the law before. It'll do no good."

I thought about how Mr. Randy immediately thought badly of Blaine, judging him at first sight. Somehow I didn't think he could testify against a grown man.

"It's worth a shot," I pointed out. "I can't just let you go through this knowing I didn't even _try _to do anything about it."

"Kurt, please."

He spoke the words so softly, so meekly. His wide multicolored eyes bored into mine, effectively stopping my thought process. I'd never seen him look so innocent.

I couldn't understand it, but I could feel how desperate he was through our Connection. This was extremely important to him, and I couldn't deny him that.

"I…okay," I said slowly. He visibly relaxed. "But if you are ever in any _real _danger, you have to let me know."

"I'll be the judge of that," he muttered darkly, flipping like a coin. "Now why don't you go back and sit with your little Glee friends."

Shocked by his sudden change of mood, I stood and went back to the table with Mercedes as instructed.

_Note to self, _I thought as I took a seat. _Don't tell Blaine what to do. It pisses him off._

~.~.~.~

About a week passed. While my anxiety, and thus Blaine's abuse, wasn't getting any better, it wasn't getting worse either. I gave Blaine his much-needed space, as he requested (or rather ordered), and things almost went back to how they were before I met him.

I still hadn't told Dad about my Connection. Carole said he didn't suspect anything as far as she could tell, which didn't surprise me. I decided that if Blaine and I made any progress in our relationship, or at least if he started speaking to me again, I would tell him.

I hadn't yet told Carole about Blaine's situation, either. It wasn't my secret to tell, and anyhow she would probably call the police. While I was convinced that it would be in Blaine's best interest to do so, he seemed dead-set on keeping his father out of jail, and I didn't want to betray him like that.

But on Friday evening, the anxiety I regularly felt was worse than I could ever remember it being. My face was stinging and my gut aching, mere shadows of what Blaine was surely feeling at the moment. Even the techniques Carole taught me were doing no good. She seemed suspicious, eying me as we prepared dinner, but I didn't tell her anything. I would just have to wait it out and hope Blaine was okay.

Right before we served dinner the feelings of stress lessened greatly, though they didn't disappear.

"You feeling alright, man?" Finn asked me as Carole and Dad put the food on the table. "You've been acting sick all week…and all month."

"Just tired," I lied. "A lot of homework, you know." It was enough to convince Finn, but Carole caught on.

"Maybe you should go lay down, honey," she hinted, taking a seat.

"I'm fine," I insisted, putting on a smile. "There's no way I'm missing dinner because of this – it looks delicious!"

Carole looked worried but said nothing. We dug in, Dad and Finn striking up a conversation about the latest Buckeyes game until Carole cut them off, insisting that we needed a topic of conversation we could all participate in. We eventually settled on the subject of the upcoming Regionals competition.

Just as we were about to have dessert, there was a faint knock at the door.

All of us looked towards the entryway, wondering who would be at our house this late in the evening. Dad set down his fork and knife and stood from the table, brow furrowed as he went out of sight to answer the door. Shortly after, we heard the door creak open.

"Can I help you?" I heard my dad say shrewdly.

"Is Kurt here?" said a shaking, all-too familiar voice. I'm…a friend of his from school."

I was out of my seat and darting to the door before he could finish his sentence, rounding the corner to be greeted by a very pitiful sight.

Blaine was shivering on the front porch, curls slightly damp because of the sleet coming down outside. On his face was the most terrified expression I'd ever seen, his golden eyes wide and scared. The most prominent things, though, were the bruises blossoming around his right eye and jaw, along with a cut above his right eyebrow that was steadily trickling blood.

"Blaine!" I gasped, grabbing his arm and pulling him into the house. He winced slightly at my grip as I hauled him into the entryway.

Carole and Finn had come out of the dining room to see what was going on, shock written on their faces. Dad's, however, was colored by suspicion.

I realized how Blaine must look to them as I shut the door. With his multiple piercings and sleet-dappled leather jacket, he had a typical bad-boy appearance.

I shoved those thoughts aside, realizing how freezing Blaine must have been. It was late November; we were lucky it wasn't snowing.

Carole seemed to snap out of her stupor, bustling over to the couch and retrieving a throw blanket, tossing it around Blaine's shoulders. He seemed to recoil slightly at her closeness.

Blaine clutched the blanket to himself as everyone surveyed him. I felt like glaring at my dad, who was currently giving Blaine the evil eye.

"Let's get you down to my room," I whispered to Blaine, leading him to the door of my basement bedroom.

"Hey, wait, hold on," My dad cut in, placing a firm hand on my shoulder. "Kurt, I don't even know this kid, you can't just let him into the house-"

"Are you really going to turn him away, Dad?" I asked incredulously. He took in Blaine's wounded, quivering form, a flicker of sympathy touching his eyes.

"Kurt, what else am I supposed to do?" he asked quietly.

"Just let me get him warm," I said firmly. Pleading would do me no good; in order to convince my father - who was as stubborn as me – of something, I needed to show no weakness. "I promise I'll explain everything in a few minutes."

Dad looked from me to Blaine for a few moments, deliberating.

"Burt, sweetie," Carole said softly, touching his arm. "Let them go. It's okay."

Thankfully that seemed to work, because he released my arm with a stern look. I nodded my thanks and headed downstairs.

Blaine followed me silently into my bedroom, gazing around. I could physically feel his apprehension and fear, but there was also relief.

I dug a simple t-shirt and sweatpants out of my dresser, handing them to him.

"Go shower and change," I instructed gently. "I have a lot of explaining to do."

"I'm sorry," Blaine muttered, his voice strangled. "I didn't have anywhere else to go…"

"Don't worry about it. We'll talk about this later, go warm up before you catch a cold."

He nodded and went into the adjoining bathroom. I quickly bounded back upstairs, hoping against hope that my father would show some compassion for Blaine.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: I'm loving the response this is getting! Thank you so much! And just so you know, the tone of this chapter kind of implies that the story is nearing its end, but I assure you it most certainly is not. We've still got a long way to go :)**

**~.~.~.~**

"I don't like the looks of this kid."

Carole, Dad, and I were sitting at the dining room table, me and my father across from each other and Carole at the head of the table between us. Our dinner plates still sat in front of us, the food growing unappetizingly cold. Finn had been instructed to go into the living room, but I wouldn't have put it past him to be listening at the door.

Dad was reacting exactly as I expected him to, immediately labeling Blaine and berating me for letting him into the house.

"You don't know him, Dad-" I began, but he cut me off.

"I know him well enough to know he's done some pretty bad stuff. He's got a lot of nerve, showing up here after getting into a fight. I bet he's got a criminal record too, hasn't he?"

He spotted the look in my eyes as he said that last part, which was evidently enough to confirm his suspicions.

"H-he was just defending himself," I explained hurriedly, my mouth unable to keep up with my words. "He was bullied like me, giving them what they gave him."

"Really, is that what he told you?" he said sarcastically, obviously not buying it. "Why are you hanging around this kid, anyway? You know better than that, Kurt."

"We were assigned to do an English project together, I got to know him," I half-lied. "And I would expect _you _to know better than to judge someone the second you see them."

That seemed to hit a nerve for him, as I expected it would. Dad often said that he didn't like the way people judged me, labeling me as queer before they even knew my name.

"I just don't want you getting hurt," he said eventually.

"Blaine won't hurt me."

"I don't feel safe with someone I don't know in this house!" he said incredulously.

_"I _know him!" I retorted. "He's got nowhere else to go – he's not safe in his own house! I don't think he got into a fight, Dad. I'm fairly sure his father did this to him. The least you can do is let him stay the night, god forbid get him some _help."_

Dad sighed, looking tired, and Carole rubbed his arm. The sleet continued to come down outside, rapping against the windowpanes.

"Kurt, you're young, and you see all the good in people," Dad said calmly. "I don't think this is a smart choice to be making-"

"He's my soul mate, Dad," I interrupted quietly. "I Connected."

My father silently stared at me for a long time, and at first I was worried that he might have another heart attack. Carole kept her face blank, giving nothing away.

"Are you sure?" he said eventually.

"Positive."

I hated this. I hated the fact that I had to expose Blaine like this, to give away his biggest secret that had hurt him so many times in the past, just so he'd have a place to sleep tonight. Was this really how everyone saw him?

Dad sighed laboriously, laying his head in his hands. After a long moment he looked up at me.

"Are you two together?" he asked.

"No, that's why I didn't tell you about him earlier."

He nodded understandingly. I wondered if I was in trouble.

"You are your mother," he said eventually, smiling slightly. I glowed with pride, as I always did when he said that.

"Does that mean Blaine can stay?" I asked hopefully.

Dad nodded and I immediately dashed around the table to hug him. He patted my shoulder and said, "Just be careful, okay?"

"I will Dad," I assured him.

~.~.~.~

I was downstairs setting up the air mattress when Blaine came out of the shower. He was wearing my clothes, which were slightly long on his short frame, his hair still slightly wet. He knelt down to help me put the sheets on the makeshift bed, working in silence.

"You can put your wet clothes in the dryer," I told him, gesturing to the laundry room around the corner. He gathered the damp bundle and I went over to my vanity, searching my different facial creams until I found the one I was looking for.

"Here," I said gently as Blaine came back, approaching him with the ointment. The cut above his eye had stopped bleeding, I noticed.

"What are you doing?" he asked apprehensively, taking a step back.

"I'm treating your cut so it won't get infected," I explained.

Blaine allowed me to come closer and I dipped my fingers in the goop, dabbing it over his cut. He stayed stock still, eyes darting around the room as I tended to him.

"I have something that'll help your bruises too, if you'd like," I offered. He nodded and I went to retrieve another jar, spreading it on the dark splotches quickly forming across his features. I'd never been this close to Blaine before, and now I could see several whitish flecks dappling his face and neck.

"Where did you get these scars?" I asked kindly, not wanting to prod.

"He likes to throw beer bottles at my head," Blaine muttered, obviously meaning his father. "He's a pretty bad aim when he's drunk, but the shards go everywhere."

I would've given anything for my dad to hear Blaine say that, because I was sure it would show him how much Blaine needed help, but it was too private. Blaine just barely trusted me enough to tell me; there was no way he would tell a man that nearly turned him out on a freezing November night.

"My dad said you could stay the night," I told him as I finished applying the ointment, screwing the cap back on. "He'll probably want to talk to you tomorrow about what happened. I had to tell him we were Connected to convince him to let you stay."

"You didn't tell him before?" Blaine asked, perplexed.

"Of course not. I didn't want to out you."

At this, Blaine blushed, actually _blushed, _which I had never seen him do.

I put the jar back on my vanity and went into the bathroom to get ready for bed, snatching my pajamas on the way. When I came out, tossing my clothes in the hamper, Blaine was getting settled under the blankets on the air mattress.

"Oh no, Anderson," I said sternly. He glanced up fearfully. "You're sleeping on the bed. You deserve it."

Again Blaine's face uncharacteristically reddened, but he didn't protest.

I sat before my vanity and began my moisturizing routine, trying to inconspicuously watch Blaine in the mirror as I applied the first of my facial creams. His back was to me, curled up under my fluffy comforter so that he appeared very small, only his curls visible resting on the plush pillow. I could feel his pain – not physically, but emotionally. I somehow knew that his world had been torn apart, and I wished there was something I could do to help. I decided to talk to him about it tomorrow, after he'd gotten a good night's sleep and calmed down a bit.

I wondered if there was a way to adjust how attuned I was to Blaine's emotions, so I just kind of focused on it and I found that it was relatively easy. It was almost as if there was a knob inside my brain to change the sensitivity of our Connection. I accidentally turned the metaphorical thing too far, actually making me gasp from the flood of emotions that I was pounded with.

I hurriedly readjusted the potency, but not before tears had the chance to well up in my eyes as I was overcome with Blaine's sheer misery. I buried my head in my hands, the lotion I had just applied getting all over my fingers as a result. I could feel Blaine's eyes on me, but he said nothing.

When I was finished with my regimen I shut off the remaining lights and felt my way to the air mattress in the dark. I got under the blankets, easily falling into the stupor of half-sleep after the very eventful evening.

I lay there for about twenty minutes, right on the brink of sleep, when I heard it.

It was just the tiniest of sniffles, but it was one of the most dejected sounds I'd ever heard in my life. Even with the sensitivity of our Connection turned down, I could now feel an extremely powerful emotion of Blaine's that nearly overwhelmed me.

It was a deep, desperate need to be loved.

Almost as if sleepwalking, I rose to my feet in a haze, making my way around the bed so that I was kneeling by the side, facing him.

Blaine's eyes were wide open and staring into mine, tear tracks shining on his cheeks in the moonlight coming in through the high-set windows. I instinctively reached out to touch his face, my fingers ghosting lightly over his stubble-dusted jaw so I wouldn't hurt him. I watched as another tear fell and brushed it away with my thumb.

I had never been more certain that Blaine needed me as I was in that moment.

I climbed onto the mattress beside him, the two of us easily fitting on the queen-sized bed. He scooted over to make room, looking slightly shocked, the spot where he'd been laying now between us. I reached across to rub his arm gently. Blaine sniffled again, looking so lost and scared that I got the courage to pull him into my arms.

At first Blaine lay stiff, but slowly his body relaxed, and then he was almost burrowing into my chest, making himself impossibly small and tucking his head under my chin. He clung to my shirt, shaking with silent but forceful sobs. I held his slim frame, so skinny I could feel his ribs prominently, running my hands through his soft curls.

This reminded me so much of what my mom used to do for me when I had nightmares, except that I always told her what was making me scared or sad so I would feel better. Blaine and I hadn't said a word, and yet we didn't need to. I knew how badly he needed someone, and he knew how much I wanted to help him. At this point, words would do more harm than good. Instead I just rubbed his back soothingly while he cried into my shirt, effectively breaking my heart. I wished I could calm him down, so I tried something that never failed to pacify me.

_"Blackbird singing in the dead of night," _I sang softly, _"take these broken wings and learn to fly…all your life…you were only waiting for this moment to arise…"_

I continued my singing and gradually Blaine's shaking dissipated, his body becoming limp in my arms. He was warm and smelled like coffee cake and Blaine, making me more tired than I already was, but I finished the song before I let myself close my eyes, though he was already fast asleep.

That night, my dreams of swirling color were accompanied by the toasty, sweet scent of pastries and coffee grounds. It was also the first night I understood what the dream voice was saying:

_"Kurt."_

**~.~.~.~**

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	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Here's a longer one! If you guys want, you can check me out on Tumblr, I'll be posting poems, blogs, vids, all kinds of stuff. The URL is kenna7elefant dot tumblr dot com.**

**~.~.~.~**

When I awoke, I didn't open my eyes immediately. I could see the red of sunlight shining through my eyelids, bathing my face in warmth, though it wasn't as prominent as the heat wrapped up in my arms.

Blaine. I could feel his form expanding and contracting as he drew slow, deep breaths, the hot air ghosting along my chest. His nose was settled in the dip in my collarbone, his forehead against my neck and his curls tickling my chin and shoulder. Blaine's death-grip on my shirt had slackened during the night, but he was still curled so tightly against me that it almost hurt.

I opened my eyes to look at him, blinking against the light. His hair looked more like a soft brown that black in the morning sun, almost begging me to run my fingers through it. It struck me how incredibly vulnerable he looked, cowering into me and trusting me to protect him. I held him tighter; no matter what this was between us, I would never let him get hurt.

Blaine began to stir after a few minutes, his hand latching onto my shirt again. He was probably wrinkling the silk fabric within an inch of its life, but I couldn't care less. Groggily he lifted his head, the bruises much easier to distinguish today and his eyebrows furrowed against the light. He blinked owlishly up at me, squirming in my arms. I loosened them and he arched his back, stretching.

"Sorry about last night," Blaine mumbled, not looking at me as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "I didn't mean to get so clingy, I just…"

"It's fine," I said instantly. "I understand. Shared emotions, remember?"

"Right," he laughed nervously. "I, um…thank you. For persuading your dad to let me stay. I'll just get dressed and head out."

Blaine started to sit up but I grabbed his arm, appalled at his sudden will to leave.

"And where do you think you're going?" I said incredulously.

"I…back to my house," he answered. "Where else would I go?"

"Wait, isn't he the one that did this to you?" I demanded.

"Well…yes, but-"

"But nothing! I'm not letting you sleep at my house for a night so you can go back there and let him beat you up some more, that's not how friendship works," I said firmly.

"And where do you propose I go?" he asked, half angry, half confused.

"Stay here," I said simply. "I know I can talk Dad into it-"

"Kurt, I _can't," _he said forcefully, wrenching his arm from my grip.

"Why not?"

"Because…I don't think your dad would allow it, he doesn't like me very much."

"That's not the reason and you know it," I said darkly. "I can feel it when you lie to me."

Blaine looked suddenly nervous, like he did last night. His tongue darted out to wet his lips.

"What is it?" I asked gently.

"Well…my dad used to be an okay guy," he muttered, dropping his eyes to the sheets as he picked at a loose thread. "Before he started drinking, he was like a real father. Then my mom left when I was seven and he became an alcoholic…" He took a shaky breath. "He makes me steal stuff for him. Mostly beer and cigarettes. That's why I went to juvie the first time. And the second. It toughened me up so I could defend myself when they found out I was gay in high school."

I felt incredibly honored that Blaine trusted me enough to tell me all of this. I knew he was laying his heart on the line, and that meant more to me than I could say.

"Why don't you defend yourself against your father, then?" I wondered.

"I try to," he croaked. "But all I can think about when he's coming after me is how we used to go on fishing trips together, or how he'd take me to the park every weekend, or watch cartoons on Saturday mornings while we tried to catch Cheerios in our mouths…"

He was falling apart more and more the longer he talked, shaking and trying to form sentences around a fresh round of tears. I hesitantly took him into my arms again, sitting up so I was leaning against the headboard with him across my chest.

I could vividly imagine everything Blaine described to me – a faceless father figure teaching a younger Blaine how to cast a line on the bank of a lake, pushing his son higher on a swing as he squealed with laughter on a hot summer day, tickling him on the couch while characters talked on a TV screen. Then a tearful Blaine as a woman that looked a lot like him packed her suitcase and went out into the rainy night, the same man nursing a beer at the dining room table. Then Blaine was about twelve, being caught sneaking a pack of cigarettes in his pocket, sitting in a courtroom and being sent to a juvenile detention center. Then he was defending himself a few years later from an older, brute of a boy who resembled Karofsky, going back to juvie, dodging his drunken father's blows in a dingy apartment…

"What did he do to you?" I asked shakily. "What did he do, Blaine, that was bad enough to make you come here last night?" Blaine turned his face to bury it in my shirt, taking a deep breath before answering.

"He tried to kill me," he mumbled. "He's threatened to so many times before, but this time he got out a kitchen knife and tried to stab me."

I didn't know anyone whose soul mate's life had been threatened. If I had, I still don't think I would've been prepared for the effect it had on me.

My blood positively _boiled, _a mixture of rage and utter terror pulsing through me like nothing I'd ever felt before. I wanted to hunt down Mr. Anderson and personally make sure he could never hurt anyone again, but at the same time I wanted to hide Blaine away from the world, to protect him from all the hateful people in it. All rational thought was gone, replaced by an instinct just as strong as breathing, something so deeply ingrained in my nature that I was shocked it hadn't surfaced before.

"Whoa," Blaine gasped. He immediately reached out and gripped my arm rather tightly, his eyes widening at the sudden onset of emotion. I could feel it too, a strong need for us to be closer to one another, and I held him more securely.

"S-sorry," I stammered as the torrent of emotions began to fade. "I think what you said triggered something."

"Yeah, I can feel that," he said breathlessly.

"I just," I took a deep breath, trying to calm down, "I just can't late him hurt you. I don't see _why _he would hurt you; it's so unfair, Blaine, what the hell did you ever do to him-?"

"Hey," Blaine said quickly, for I had gone into a panic again by the time I finished speaking. He rubbed my arm with his thumb, the action surprisingly tender. I closed my eyes and tried to beat down the anger rising up in my chest.

"Sorry," I muttered again. "I know it's weird for me to be all protective, but we're going to be in each other's lives for a long time, and frankly you need protecting."

"I understand."

We were silent for a long time, both of us trying to calm down. After a few moments, Blaine hesitantly reached up to latch his arms around my neck and I buried my face in his hair, just breathing him in. It was incredibly comforting, his scent and warmth surrounding me until my heart rate slowed and my breathing returned to normal.

"What are we, Kurt?" Blaine asked nervously after a long time. "What is this?"

"You mean, besides Connected?"

He nodded.

"I don't really think we need anymore labels," I said honestly. "I'm not sure any exist for this kind of situation anyway. How about we just be Kurt and Blaine?"

I could almost feel Blaine smile as he said, "I'd like that."

~.~.~.~

We went upstairs for breakfast a little while later to find Carole and Dad sitting at the table. Evidently she and Finn had stayed the night, considering that the latter was still passed out on the couch, since the air mattress had been supposedly occupied last night.

"Hey Dad," I said cautiously, closing the basement door behind me. Blaine stood rather awkwardly off to the side.

My dad looked up from his toast and newspaper, quickly taking in the sight of us.

"Morning kiddo," he said shortly, then went back to reading his article.

"Good morning boys," Carole said much more warmly, taking her empty plate to the kitchen. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"I'll have Raisin Bran, Blaine will have the Fruity Pebbles," I said automatically. Blaine and I had long since discovered that we could sense each other's preferences at will, and it was made even easier now that I could adjust the strength of our Connection.

Carole gave me an odd look before getting out the cereal, and I motioned for Blaine to have a seat at the table while I went to help Carole in the kitchen. I could feel his discomfort as he sat across from my father, having not turned down my sensitivity to him yet. This turned out to be a mistake when I stubbed my toe on the doorframe.

"Ouch," Blaine and I hissed in unison.

"Sorry," I said quickly, rubbing my foot and turning the strength of our Connection way down.

Carole had frozen in the act of pouring milk, having watched the whole scene unfold, and she motioned for me to come talk to her. I went to stand at the counter to her right, getting spoons out for Blaine and I.

"Did he really feel it when you hurt your foot?" she asked disbelievingly. I nodded, confused by her reaction.

"I accidentally forgot to turn the sensitivity down," I explained.

"You _what?"_

"You know, I wanted to see what kind of cereal he liked."

Carole gaped at me for a moment. "You…you guys can feel that kind of thing?" I nodded. "Wow," she muttered, impressed.

"Is that not normal?" I wondered.

"It's not unheard of, but it's quite rare. You have the strongest Connection of anyone I know personally, anyway."

"Weird," I said thoughtfully.

We each carried out a bowl, Carole setting Blaine's down in front of him as I sat to his right. He muttered a thank you and we started eating. It was rather awkwardly silent, until of course my dad decided he was finished with his paper, at which point the awkwardness level went up about twenty notches.

"So, Blaine," he said, folding his hands in front of him to appear authoritative or something. "What's the deal here? Do you have a game plan?"

Blaine and I glanced at one another uncertainly.

"Look kid, I'm gonna need to know your living situation so I know if it's safe for you to go back there or if I need to step in," Dad said firmly but not unkindly.

Blaine wanted to leave. It was plainly obvious to anyone, even to my dad.

"Why don't you go take a shower, Blaine?" I suggested. He bolted up from the table, heading for the basement door.

"Hey wait, I gotta talk to you!" my father said indignantly.

"I can answer for Blaine," I assured him. "And I'm _not _letting him go back there."

I heard the basement door open and shut and knew Blaine had taken the opportunity to leave the room

"What's going on here?" Dad asked. "Why is he so unsafe?"

"His father is an alcoholic homophobe," I said simply. "He tried to kill Blaine last night."

And there it was again, that burn of anger and fear, though it hadn't really left. Again I felt the strong need to have Blaine close to me, where I could see him and keep him safe. I tried my best to calm us both down, like on the nights when Blaine was beaten by his dad.

"Have you two talked about this?" Dad wondered, oblivious to my distress.

"Kind of," I admitted. "He's terrified, Dad. I feel it every day. I'm not letting it go on any longer."

"Whoa whoa, I thought you two weren't together," he interjected with a raised hand.

"We're not. I mean, not really, but that doesn't mean I don't care about him."

He sighed heavily. "Okay look," he said slowly, with renewed calm. "You're his soul mate, right? So you can feel his emotions?" I nodded. "So you know this guy is trustworthy?"

"Yes," I said without hesitation. "Please let him stay here, Dad, I'm the only person he's got."

"Is he going to be comfortable staying here?"

I faltered, because honestly I didn't know. Blaine seemed comfortable enough around me, but the fact that he wasn't up here to answer the question himself proved that he didn't trust my dad yet. But really, what other options did he have?

"He will be," I answered eventually. "Just give him some time and don't be all intimidating like you were a few minutes ago."

"I'm just trying to make sure you're safe."

"I am," I assured him. "But Blaine isn't."

Dad gazed at me for a long time, pondering my words.

"Alright," he decided. "We'll report his father to the police and see if they'll-"

"No!" I said quickly, just as Blaine had that day in the lunchroom. "Don't report him, please, Blaine wouldn't want that. Can't we just go talk to him and see if he'll let us take Blaine? If he won't…we'll talk about calling the cops then."

"Why doesn't he want the man who tried to murder him behind bars?" Dad asked incredulously.

"He has his reasons," I insisted, not wanting to expose any more of Blaine's personal life. "As long as Mr. Anderson isn't hurting anyone else it's okay, right?"

"Kurt, I don't feel right letting a _murderer _run loose on the streets-"

"He's just a stupid drunk," I reasoned. "We don't have to send him to jail; as soon as Blaine isn't there to steal stuff for him, he'll be caught by the police within a week."

"Is that what he had that poor kid doin'?" Dad muttered wearily, putting his head in his hands. "I don't know kiddo, this isn't the kind of decision you can make in a few minutes…"

"Then think about it," I said gently, remembering how the doctor said stress wasn't good for his heart. "But Blaine gets to stay here until you decide, right?"

He dropped his hands and nodded tiredly, making me grin. "Just keep an eye on him, okay?" he instructed as I went around the table to hug him.

"I will," I vowed.

"I'm real proud of you, Kurt," Dad muttered. "These are a lot of adult decisions you're making, not many teenagers would be able to handle this."

I grinned proudly and turned on my heel, heading downstairs with a slight spring in my step.

When I arrived in my room I could hear the sound of the shower shutting off, followed by the _shing_ of the curtain being pulled back. I went over to my closet to select an outfit for the day, and by the time I had one laid out on the bed, Blaine emerged from the bathroom.

He was wearing the clothes he had on the day before minus the leather jacket, hair still damp and dripping slightly.

"Did it go well?" he asked apprehensively, as if I would be down here and not still debating with my father if he refused to let Blaine stay.

"He hasn't made up his mind yet," I answered, "but I know he won't turn you out. He just has to decide whether or not to call the police, but I think I convinced him not to."

"Really?" I saw hope in Blaine's eyes for the first time since he walked in my front door. I nodded and he seemed to think about something for a second, and before I knew it he was rushing forward and throwing his arms around me.

I was shocked out of my wits for a moment, but as soon as I realized that this was the first time he'd actually initiated physical contact with me, I was hugging back.

"Thank you," Blaine whispered. "Thank you so much, Kurt, you don't know what this means to me-"

"Well, if you think about it, I kind of do," I pointed out, trying to lighten the suddenly intense mood.

"When I was in court for stealing and they were asking me all those questions…I just couldn't turn my dad in, you know?" he muttered. "I mean, it won't take long for him to get himself caught now that he has to steal his own booze, but that's his choice."

I nodded in agreement, closing my eyes as Blaine laid his head on my shoulder. The embrace was unusually drawn out, and anyone else would've perceived it as awkward, but it felt so _right._ It was so peaceful, the atmosphere warm and safe…

Which was quickly shattered by the sound of my father's thundering footsteps on the stairs.

Blaine and I jumped apart just as he came into view, and I could tell he'd seen something by the way he glanced suspiciously between the two of us.

"Just getting some laundry," he explained uncomfortably. "Blaine, you'll be rooming with Kurt if you decide to stay here, but I don't want any funny business."

Blaine's ears turned a flaming red.

"Yes, sir," he muttered, looking at the floor.

"Call me Burt." It sounded more like an order than the peace offering it was clearly meant to be.

Blaine said nothing, and after a moment Dad gave up and went to the laundry room.

"He's not as intimidating as he seems," I assured Blaine quietly.

"He doesn't like me," he said decidedly.

"He doesn't know you."

"Kurt, look at me," he said bitterly, his angry eyes snapping up to mine as he gestured to himself. "Do I look like the kind of person he would want as his son's soul mate?"

I faltered, because honestly, he didn't. Even without the leather jacket, his cuts and bruises made him look more like a trouble-making teen than a victim of child abuse, not to mention the piercings that served as immediate red flags in any parent's eyes. But I knew Blaine better than that. He had to appear tough and unbreakable to the public to prevent being broken.

"Dad trusts me, and I trust you," I said eventually. "Just let him get to know you. He'll come around."

Blaine considered me for a long moment, and gradually the anger left his eyes. The worst part was that his anger was directed at himself, not at me, and that broke my heart.

"Sorry," he murmured.

"It's okay."

We were silent for a long time after that, and eventually a question bubbled to my tongue that couldn't go unanswered any longer.

"Do you even want to stay here, Blaine?" I asked him gently. He seemed taken aback by the question.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I mean, your dad and Finn kind of scare me, but Carole seems alright, and obviously I'm okay with you. Besides, it's not like I have anywhere else to go…"

"But do you _want _to stay here?" I pressed. "If you had somewhere else you could go, would you want to stay here?"

"Well…yeah," he mumbled. "I mean, you're here, so…that makes this the best place."

My heart warmed at his words and I nodded with satisfaction, trying to hide my smile.

**~.~.~.~**

**REVIEW = PREVIEW**

** Also there was a _super _vague Very Potter Musical reference in there that probably none of you will get. When Blaine says, "Yeah. I can feel that", I imagined him saying it the way Hermione says, "Yeah, I can taste that" when Ron squirts blueberry flavored breath spray into her mouth :)**

** So yeah. That's my brain :P**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Hello again :) You guys will never believe what I'm working on right now: an original movie script! That's right. Original. I didn't think I could do it either. It was supposed to be a Kurt and Blaine fan fiction, but then I realized I was changing literally everything except for their names and appearances. Now their names are Saegen and Louis :)**

**~.~.~.~**

Blaine's stay started out very rocky. Mealtimes were extremely awkward, especially on nights when Finn and Carole weren't there, because then it was just me and my dad making conversation – which was difficult on its own – while Blaine sat quietly eating. Dad tried a few times to have a conversation with him, but they were short and even more uncomfortable than the silences, so eventually he gave up.

We didn't sleep in my bed together after the first night, making an unspoken agreement that it had been a one-time thing for several reasons, one being that we didn't want my father catching us. I continued to sleep on the air mattress and my back took the toll, but I didn't really mind. It was strange, because after the night of falling asleep with Blaine in my arms, I had a harder tie sleeping without it. It was as if my body had gotten used to the feel of his against mine, though we hadn't so much as touched since he hugged me. Ever since that night, my dream voice had seemed closer, still murmuring my name.

It had been a week since Blaine left his father's house, and though my father and I checked everyday, there was nothing in the newspapers that reported Blaine missing or his father being arrested. Blaine came to school with me everyday, so it wasn't like no one had seen him, but it just proved how truly heartless his father was, not even reporting his son's absence to the police.

School was weird. We still sat together at lunch, carrying on our conversations as always, and that combined with the fact that we arrived in the same car every morning was enough to turn heads.

"Did you hire him as your body guard or something?" Santana asked in Glee one day when the subject was brought up. I rolled my eyes and Mercedes shot me a sideways glance, silently asking if I was going to tell them.

"Of course I didn't, Santana," I said exasperatedly. "Why is it so wrong to hang out with him?"

"Because the dude's dangerous!" Puck interjected. "And I'm not talking shove-you-into-a-locker dangerous, I'm talking cut-you-with-a-_switchblade_-dangerous."

"Oh yeah, because stealing waffles is _so _life threatening," Quinn said sarcastically.

"Be quiet, you weren't there!"

I sighed tiredly, because honestly I could only handle so much commotion in my life at one time.

"Then why _do _you hang out with him?" Santana demanded, ignoring the other two. "Oh god, you're not developing a crush, are you? I see you come to school together every morning, are you guys fuck buddies? I didn't even think he was gay…"

"We are _not _fuck buddies!" I said immediately. "We carpool. 'Save the environment' and all that."

She let the issue drop after that, but I could tell she wasn't satisfied with my excuse. This wouldn't be the last I heard from her about this.

The only time Blaine really came out of his shell around anyone but me was when Carole was there. It was easy to understand with her likeable, loving nature; I didn't know if there was a person on the planet that could hate Carole. On Friday night she actually got him to play a board game with us and watch a movie, though he stayed silent the whole time.

That night after Finn and Carole left, Blaine and I made for the basement stairs when my dad called us back into the living room. We took a seat beside each other on the couch, facing him where he was seated in his armchair.

"I wanted to talk to you," he began, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "Blaine, if you'd like, I wanna permanently welcome you into our house."

Blaine seemed nonplussed, blinking owlishly at my father. I, on the other hand, wanted to hug both of them out of glee.

"R-really?" Blaine stammered, as if trying to make sure this wasn't some sort of cruel joke. Dad nodded.

"You're a good kid Blaine, and it took me a while to see that, but I do now," he told him earnestly. "You've been good to Kurt, and I wanna return the favor.

"Now, about your father," he continued, voice becoming very serious. Blaine's look of shock ebbed away into one of worry. "We're gonna go pick up your stuff tomorrow. Me, you, and Kurt. I'm gonna talk to your dad and see if he'll let us take you. If he doesn't, we'll take him to court. It'll be an easy victory for us, but I don't wanna go down that path." Blaine nodded in agreement and gratitude. "But I have to ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest with me here: is your father a danger to anyone but you?"

"No," Blaine answered instantly. "The only way he would be a hazard is if he got hold of a gun, and he would get caught if he tried to steal one. Believe me, if he could get his hands on a gun, I'd be dead right now."

"My familiar protective instinct flared up and I hissed quietly through my teeth at its potency, my head spinning. Blaine moved his leg slightly so it was touching mine, almost subconsciously, and it faded a bit.

"Okay," my father said calmly. "I'll trust your judgment and respect your wish to not turn him in to the cops, but if he tried to find you, I _will _call the police."

"Thank you," Blaine said quietly.

"Don't thank me. Any decent person would've done it. You boys get some sleep, we've got a big day tomorrow."

Blaine stood and I could've sworn he gave my dad the tiniest of smiles before heading for the basement. I didn't follow, instead going over to hug my dad.

"Thank you," I whispered, putting as much meaning as I could into the words.

"Poor kid deserves it," he muttered, patting my back as I released him. "Tomorrow's probably gonna be really rough on him, so try to help you out any way you can."

I nodded, smiling as I bid him goodnight and went to do my moisturizing routine. I could hear Blaine brushing his teeth in the bathroom as I sat in front of my vanity, pulling my bangs back with a headband and applying the first of my skin creams. I knew that by the time I finished Blaine would be out of the bathroom, at which point I would brush my teeth while he lay in bed, as was the pattern we had fallen into over the past week.

By the time all the lights were shut off and I was settling in on the air mattress, Blaine was still awake. We didn't usually talk before we went to bed, but this time he broke the silence.

"I don't want you to go," he said, so softly I barely heard.

"Hmm?" I said confusedly.

"To my dad's apartment," he clarified. "I don't want you to go, but at the same time…I don't think I can go without you."

"Why?"

He sighed, taking his time before answering. I turned onto my back, staring at the ceiling as I awaited his reply.

"I know what it feels like to be threatened by him, and I don't want you to feel that way because of me," he said eventually. "And I don't wanna put you in any kind of danger."

"I know what it feels like, too," I reminded him. "It's nothing I can't handle, and it won't be as bad if we're together."

"It might be worse, actually," he countered, and I heard him moving around on the bed. Suddenly his head was peeking over the foot of the mattress above me. "He'll get angrier if he sees me with another guy, I know it, and I'll be worried about him hurting you and you'll be worrying about him hurting me which will make me even _more _worried-"

"Hey," I said quietly, cutting off his rambling. He stopped, eyes wide with fear in the dim light, his mass of dark curls hanging over me like some kind of strange rain cloud.

"It's gonna be okay," I insisted. "My dad will be there; it'll be three against one. None of us are gonna let him hurt you or me. We'll get your stuff and then you'll never have to go back there or see him again."

He gazed at me for a long moment, then sighed defeatedly and nodded.

"Okay," he croaked, sounding pitiful and lost.

"Do you want me to sleep up there with you?" I offered. Blaine seemed to hesitate for a moment.

"No, I'm alright," he muttered, then pulled out of sight as he righted himself on the bed.

"Goodnight, Blaine," I said to him, turning back onto my side.

"Night, Kurt."

~.~.~.~

The next morning Finn and Carole came over for moral support while we were eating breakfast, Finn looking slightly worried.

"Morning boys," Carole said cheerily, kissing my father's head and patting my shoulder as she went by.

"I wanna come to Blaine's dad's house," Finn insisted, though his nervous tone wasn't convincing.

"Absolutely not," Burt and Carole said simultaneously.

"Honey, this man is extremely dangerous," Carole told him. Finn hadn't yet been told the full extent of Blaine's situation, and it was clear he just thought of Mr. Anderson as the kind of guy who yelled at his son. I wished desperately that it were true.

"How come Kurt's going then?" he protested.

_Because there's nothing anyone can do to keep me here when Blaine's there, _I supplied mentally.

"Because we think it's best if he's there for Blaine, you know, for moral support," Dad told him.

"I can be morally supportive… as soon as you tell me what it means," Finn said sheepishly.

"It's different with soul mates, sweetheart," Carole explained. Finn's eyes widened.

"Wait a minute – they're _Connected?"_ he said incredulously.

"Are you seriously that dim?" I deadpanned, my pancake-loaded fork halfway to my mouth. "And here I thought you were smart enough to eavesdrop when I told Dad and Carole."

"Hey Kurt, be nice, he just wants to help," my father said warningly. I apologized to Finn and continued eating.

I wasn't normally this rude to him, but I'd been on edge ever since last night. I had been trying to prepare myself for the torrent of emotions sure to bombard Blaine and I as soon as we went back to that apartment, but I still felt so vulnerable. If Blaine's dad tried to go after him I knew I would protect Blaine without thinking, as was my instinct, and I couldn't decide if that comforted or scared me.

We finished eating and got ready to go, Blaine and I sharing the sink in the bathroom as we brushed our teeth. His hands were shaking terribly as he put his toothbrush away and I automatically reached out to take them in mine, steadying them.

"Are you gonna be okay?" I murmured. He nodded, his eyes closed and breathing erratic.

"I just don't know what to expect," he gulped. "Whether he's gonna let me go or not…"

"We won't let him take you back," I said firmly, watching his reflection in the mirror over the sink.

"I know," he said quietly. He smiled weakly and I squeezed his hands momentarily before releasing them.

Ten minutes later the three of us were in my dad's silver Subaru Outback, me in the passenger seat and Blaine in the second row. I gave my dad directions to the apartment complex, my heart and surely Blaine's beating faster the closer we got. The low-income houses and run-down, sometimes abandoned farms whipped past the windows.

"Okay guys, here's the game plan," Dad said when we were almost there. "Let me do most of the talking, and try not to upset him. We want this to be nice and diplomatic. If he doesn't let us take guardianship of Blaine, I want you guys to immediately get back in the car and we'll head straight to the police station, got it?"

Blaine and I nodded, the former incredibly nervous.

"It'll be over soon," I told him, twisting in my seat to look at him. He nodded absently, eyes wide and jaw clenched.

When we pulled into the parking lot I was struggling to stay calm, Dad parking in front of Blaine's building and cutting the engine. He turned to Blaine, face somber.

"What's your father's name, Blaine?" he asked.

"Rick," he answered meekly, as if saying his name might make him appear. Dad nodded and unbuckled, Blaine and I following suit and stepping out of the car. We went onto the uneven sidewalk and Blaine was at my side immediately.

Blaine was so terrified it made me slightly sick. Any father that could scare their son that badly did not deserve to be a parent.

We approached the glass door, behind which we could see a stairwell leading to the different floors and apartments. Blaine pressed a button on the wall labeled "3A".

"What do you want?" a gruff voice barked through the crackly speaker after a few moments. Blaine visibly flinched.

"We'd like to speak with you, please come down to the parking lot," Dad said authoritatively but calmly into the banged-up speaker box.

"Who is this?" Rick Anderson demanded, ignoring him.

"My name is Burt Hummel, I need to talk to you about your son Blaine."

Indistinct grumbling could be heard on the other line, and then the speaker went dead. I worried that he might just downright refuse to talk to us, but after a moment I could hear heavy, clumsy footsteps coming down the stairs. A man came into view and marched towards the door, wrenching it open.

Rick Anderson had probably been a very handsome man at one time, but that certainly wasn't the case now. He had the same triangular eyebrows and face shape as Blaine, but otherwise I guessed he'd gotten most of his looks from his mother. Rick had light brown hair that had receded to make his forehead look unnaturally large. It was grimy and completely straight, not at all like Blaine's soft curls. His jaw hung slack, covered in something between beard and stubble, his thin lips chapped and curled into a sneer. Beady, muddy brown eyes surveyed us, not bright like Mercedes or Rachel's eyes or multicolored like Blaine's, but frightening in the malice they held. His complexion was so pale it was clammy, his skin pockmarked and peeling in places. His greedy eyes fell on Blaine, face twisting into one of anger.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he growled, words slurring together. He was taller than Blaine, who now looked smaller than I'd ever seen him.

"That's what we wanted to discuss with you," my father said, an undertone of hatred now creeping into his voice.

"I thought you ran away," Rick continued, still looking at Blaine and completely ignoring my father. "What're you doin' back here with your little faggot friend?"

I clenched my teeth at his words, using all of my strength to prevent myself from strangling the man. This was the person who had hurt Blaine so badly, the reason he was now so terrified and the cause of the bruises and scars marring his skin. I wanted to make him suffer.

"Excuse me," my father said sharply. "We're here to ask you if you'll let your son come live with us."

"What d'you want with a queer like him?" he demanded, laughing harshly.

"The technical meaning of the word 'queer' is 'different'," I snapped, unable to hold it in any longer. "And yes, Blaine _is _different. He's different from the heartless bastard he's got for a father."

As soon as Rick registered my words he lunged at me, but his movements were slow and clumsy and my father held him back with ease. Mr. Anderson may have been tall, but he was rather scrawny. Blaine moved in front of me, defending me, a livid anger burning in both of our chests. The drunken man gave up, pointing a shaking finger at Blaine, eyes wild.

"You," he spat. "I don't ever wanna see your cocksucking little face again, d'you hear?"

I could practically feel Blaine's heart breaking in my own chest at his father's words, his protective stance falling slightly. Suddenly he was just a seven year-old boy, hearing his dad telling him he never wanted to see him again. He was really the one who needed protecting.

"Can he go up and get his things?" I vaguely heard my dad ask, but my eyes were trained on Mr. Anderson, ready to defend my soul mate at any given moment.

"Yeah, but make it quick," he warned, stepping out of the way and jabbing his thumb at the stairs. Blaine hurried through the door and I followed without a thought.

"Don't you dare steal any of my stuff, boy!" Rick Anderson yelled up the stairwell. Blaine and I quickened our pace.

The door to the third floor apartment was made of stained, warped wood, the metal "A" hanging crookedly. Blaine fished a key out of his jeans and unlocked it, swinging it open with a loud squeak.

The stench of smoke and liquor washed over me like a tidal wave, making me gag and cough. Blaine went in with me a few steps behind him and I surveyed my surroundings.

It was probably the most pitiful place I'd ever seen, stains and broken bottles littering a carpet that might've been white at one point, but was now various shades of brown and green. A small, very old TV with a tin foil antenna sat on the floor in one corner, the only semblance of furniture in the room besides a sunken orange couch. I assumed this was where Blaine slept because it was still made up with sheets and a ratty pillow.

Blaine knelt down on the filthy carpet in front of the couch, reaching under and pulling out a Converse shoebox. He stood and tucked it under his arm, then went into the hallway with me in tow. We passed the smallest kitchen I'd ever seen, which I didn't get a good look at, and entered what seemed to be the only other room in the house besides the bathroom.

It must've been his father's room because the smell here was the worst, causing me to pull my scarf up over my mouth and making me a little dizzy. A mattress lay on the floor, almost hidden among dirty clothes and trash, including several cigarette butts and beer bottle tops. A dresser was pushed up against the wall, the wood stained and a drawer missing. The whole room was smaller than my closet.

Blaine approached the dresser, pushing aside some of the clutter so he could open the bottom drawer. He retrieved a small stack of shirts, underwear, and one extra pair of jeans. He looked highly uncomfortable and almost claustrophobic, and I wanted to get him out of there as fast as I could.

"Is that all you have?" I asked as we went back to the front door, lowering my scarf from my face. He nodded, and I decided that his lack of possessions would soon be remedied.

I stuck close to Blaine as we went back downstairs. I made on offer to carry something, but he turned it down. I noticed how carefully he handled the shoebox, as I surely would if it contained my only belongings.

When we got down to the ground floor, our fathers appeared to be staring each other down. Mr. Anderson had lit a cigarette and was taking deep drags form it.

"Don't you dare bring him back here again," he snapped as Blaine and I passed. I saw Blaine flinch and I wanted to slap the disgusting man in the face.

My dad nodded and we turned back towards the car, Mr. Anderson spitting on the concrete and slamming the door after us.

I kept my eyes downcast as I picked my way across the sidewalk, not wanting to trip on the jutting cracks in it. It took me a moment to realize that Blaine was no longer beside me, and when I looked up he was a few paces back, stopped and staring at the door of the building.

I moved toward him, clearly able to feel his strong need for affection. I took his hand, squeezing it lightly.

Blaine's eyes lingered for a moment longer on the building, then dropped to our hands, brow furrowing as if he hadn't noticed they were entwined. Very gradually his fingers curled around mine, reminding me of when my father awoke from his coma. I led him back to the car.

Dad was already buckled as we climbed in, and I could tell by the way he was fiddling with the radio and not looking at either of us that he'd seen the exchange. I didn't even consider sitting in the front, sliding in the backseat next to Blaine. We drove away in silence, pulling out of the complex and onto the main road.

Whatever mental walls Blaine had put up all came down in that moment.

I actually gasped as his wave of despair hit me, and in the same moment Blaine was crying. It was strangely silent, just as it had been a week ago while we were laying in bed, only recognizable as crying by the way his body jolted and shuddered, his eyes filling with tears.

"Blaine," I whimpered, his pain driving into me like a knife as I hurriedly unbuckled, sliding across the seat to take him into my arms. I could feel my father's eyes on us in the rearview mirror, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

Blaine behaved much the same way he had last time I'd seen him cry, seeming to shrink against my chest and clinging to my shirt. I held him tightly, my own tears trickling down my face as the boy cried in my arms. I didn't even try to calm us down; Blaine needed to get this out.

"I'm sorry," he croaked, uttering the first audible sob into my shirt.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," I whispered.

**~.~.~.~**

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	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Hello there :) Did anyone else cry buckets when they watched the season finale? 'Cause I did :(**

**~.~.~.~**

I didn't see Blaine much the rest of the day. When we got back to the house he'd wiped away his tears and asked to be alone, so I let him go down into my – our – bedroom and didn't disturb him.

"Will we have to go to court?" I asked my dad once he was done recounting everything to Carole and Finn.

"No," he answered, plopping down into his armchair and turning on the television. "His dad's letting us house Blaine, and he sure as hell won't ask for him back. The kid's nearly eighteen, right?"

"He's seventeen," I said automatically, not thinking twice about the fact that he'd never told me so.

"He should be alright, then. I'll get the other bed out of the garage tomorrow and set it up in your room."

"Thanks Dad. For everything, you know."

"Well, I wasn't about to let that poor kid back into a house like that," he grumbled.

I smiled, though it didn't feel like a victory just yet. Blaine was still torn up about it, as he would be for a while, so I was too. I didn't feel like I should be happy about the fact that Blaine's father didn't love him, even if it meant he would be safe.

I watched TV with my father for a while, but I quickly grew bored. I went into the kitchen for lunch, where Carole was making a sandwich for Finn. I nearly stubbed my toe on the door again, causing me to remember the conversation we'd had earlier.

"Hey Carole?" I asked as I started fixing myself some frozen spinach pie.

"Yeah honey?"

"Remember how you said that mine and Blaine's Connection was the strongest you've seen?"

"Yes," she smiled.

"Wait, seriously?" Finn said incredulously, sandwich halfway to his mouth. "How much can you feel?"

"It depends how attuned to each other we decide to be – we haven't tried to test our limits yet," I replied.

"You can _adjust _how much you feel?" he said, gaping at me. I nodded. "I wish I could; Rachel's mood swings suck." He took a gigantic bite of ham and cheese and I wrinkled my nose in disdain.

"Anyway," I said pointedly, turning back to Carole. "I was wondering if that meant anything with regards to our relationship. I mean, is it supposed to mean that we're meant to be with each other more than other people are meant to be with their soul mates or something?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I think it would _cause _you to be closer, because you have a better understanding of one another, but I don't think there's a specific reason _why _your Connection happens to be stronger. It might just be because you both have more cognitive control than normal." She smiled warmly. "But then again, I'm not the best person to ask. All I know is that when you hurt, Blaine hurts. Even if it's as little as stubbing your toe. When Christopher was in Iraq, I only felt a tingle when his leg was shot. Granted he was miles and miles away, and Connection sensitivity weakens with distance, but still."

I mulled over her words, thinking hard as my lunch warmed up. I never thought of myself as particularly psychologically controlled, but there was no real way to compare it with anyone.

"How are you two doing?" Carole asked, bringing me back to Earth. "Have you kissed?"

"Oh god no," I answered immediately. With everything going on, I hadn't even thought about getting involved with Blaine romantically. His life had far too much drama at the moment. "He barely talks to me when we're alone together."

"You're not together?" Finn interrupted again. I rolled my eyes. "But…I mean, you're soul mates! And Burt said you were cuddling in the car!"

"We weren't _cuddling," _I said indignantly, my cheeks reddening. "He was _crying, _I was comforting him. And believe it or not, not everyone immediately falls for their soul mate."

"Sometimes these things take time, sweetie," Carole explained gently. "In Blaine's situation, he has had a hard time trusting anyone enough to get close to them. Kurt's lucky he lets him in even a little bit." I nodded in agreement.

"I just…I can't imagine if Rachel didn't love me back," he admitted.

Normally I would've shot back a defensive remark along the lines of, "Who said I love _him?" _ But I held my tongue. After all Blaine had been through today, I just couldn't say something like that.

"Why don't you make Blaine something to eat too?" Carole suggested. "He barely touched his breakfast."

I nodded and quickly picked Blaine's brain to find out what he was in the mood for and began to prepare it.

"How is he?" Carole asked, guessing that I'd checked on him as I made the sandwich.

"Lonely," I answered.

"He'll be glad to see you, then."

"Not necessarily," I said sadly. "It's not me he's missing."

The sandwich Blaine wanted was peanut butter and jelly, and for some reason it made me sad. I always associated PB and J with something that a mother packed in her child's lunchbox.

I finished making it and took both of our lunches downstairs, finding Blaine sitting on the bed reading. He looked up when he heard me coming.

"Mind if I come in?" I asked cautiously, stopping at the foot of the stairs. He shook his head and I made my way over, setting his plate on the bed beside him.

"Thanks," he muttered, his voice slightly hoarse.

"No problem," I replied. He motioned for me to sit down and I took a seat on the mattress across from him, the bed creaking. "What are you reading?"

"Harry Potter," he answered, dog-earing his page and closing it. At first I thought it was one of our copies, but all of our Harry Potter books were hardcover. This one was an extremely battered paperback, the spine bent almost to the point of falling apart and some of the pages water-stained. I realized it must have been one of the items in the shoebox.

Blaine set his book aside, handling it as if it might crumble at any moment. He reminded me strongly of my younger self when my mom died, lost and sad and alone.

"I wish I could help," I whispered. Blaine froze in the act of taking a bite, looking at me confusedly as he slowly lowered his sandwich.

"Are you kidding me?" he laughed humorlessly. "Kurt, you've helped me more than anyone ever has. You did what…what I was too cowardly to do."

His voice was tremulous, his gaze dropping to the bed as his eyes filled with tears. I stared at him in shock.

"Blaine, that's not cowardice," I murmured. "You compromised your safety because you didn't want to send your father to jail. You were protecting someone you loved." Blaine sniffled.

"I was hoping it would make him like me," he admitted, voice meek and broken. "I thought he'd be grateful that I didn't turn him in to the cops, but if he was he damn well never showed it." He blinked rapidly against the tears dripping from his eyes. "I-is it wrong that I just want someone to care about me?"

Blaine's words seemed to crush my heart to pieces, compelling me to instantly set my plate aside and move forward to sit beside him on the bed. I pulled him into my arms and he slumped against me, laying his head on my shoulder.

"I care," I murmured. "You know I do. I won't let anyone hurt you."

He said nothing, but I could feel beneath all his misery that he cared for me too.

~.~.~.~

The day passed monotonously. I finished my History project and memorized my French dialogue, then chatted with Mercedes on the phone until I helped Dad fix dinner after Finn and Carole left. Blaine ate at the table with us, but he seemed even more withdrawn than normal.

That night was different, though. I didn't even bother laying on the air mattress, following Blaine's pleading eyes to the bigger bed with him. Within moments he was burrowed against my chest again, just like the first night.

"Do you want me to sing to you?" I whispered, because it seemed to help him sleep last time. He nodded into my shirt and I thought for a moment before I settled on a song.

_"The power lines went out, and I am all alone, but I don't really care at all, not anwerin' my phone…"_

Like before, Blaine's body slowly relaxed as the song progressed, a small sigh escaping his lips.

I watched him, still singing, and realized for the first time how incredibly beautiful he was. His soft lashes were so long they brushed his cheeks, casting thin shadows across his cheekbones like delicate spider legs. His piercings were glinting gently, looking alien on his soft skin, tiny arcs of moonlight woven into his tissue. He kept his face clean-shaven now, but a shadow of stubble could be seen, bordering his light pink lips, which were slightly open in sleep. My eyes followed the dark trail down to the trunk of his neck, tracing the hollow valleys between the tendons, disappearing beneath the soft folds of the blanket that covered both of us.

Blaine was truly like a work of art, not so attractive he was intimidating but enough to make my heart pound gently. He was familiar enough that I was comfortable around him, but not so much that our relationship was brotherly.

_He's perfect, _I decided as I brushed a corkscrew curl off his forehead. _Perfect for me._

~.~.~.~

The next morning Dad, Blaine, and I moved the extra bed from the garage to my room. It was the one I had used as a kid – Dad had at one point planned to sell it on Ebay, but evidently he forgot. It was a twin, much smaller than my queen mattress now, and thus Blaine and I decided to switch off once a week.

We had to rearrange the room a bit to accommodate for the new furniture, and Blaine helped me design a new layout. He happened to have an eye for that kind of thing, which I found slightly surprising, but I supposed he had to have _some _gay qualities.

"You can have the dresser," I told him, taking the last of my clothes out of the drawers and laying them out on the bigger bed. Blaine had insisted I take the first shift with it, seeing as how I'd been sleeping on the air mattress for the past week. "I'll take the closet."

"Do you really think my clothes are going to take up a whole dresser?" he said skeptically.

"Do _you _really think I'm going to let the answer be 'no' for much longer?" I quipped. He blushed, eyes dropping in embarrassment. He was so unaccustomed to being part of a family or god forbid being treated like a person that this happened quite often.

I moved my clothes to my closet, deciding that I would have to clean it out soon. I could've given my old clothes to Blaine, seeing as he'd been borrowing them all week anyway, but they didn't fit him right. He was shorter and stockier than I was, and besides, I needed an excuse to take him shopping.

~.~.~.~

On Monday after school, I took Blaine straight to the mall to get him some clothes. He didn't seem all that reluctant to go, but he wasn't exactly eager.

"Pick out anything you want," I instructed as I led him down the wide hallway, gesturing to the shop windows around us. "You have fewer belongings than that crazy homeless person outside the public library."

"Kurt, I don't want you spending your money on me," he protested.

"Nonsense. What am I going to do with it, buy more scarves?" Actually, that did sound fairly tempting. "I'd much rather buy you things, just name a store."

"Geez, Kurt, I don't know-"

"Fine, I'll pick one."

I dragged him into the nearest clothing store by his arm, a place with blindingly white walls and mannequins thinner than my thigh staring down at us from pedestals.

"You need to embrace your inner gay," I told him as he began to veer off towards the plain t-shirts. "For god's sake, that's all you ever wear, don't you want a little variety?"

"I don't look right in anything else," he insisted as I frog-marched him away.

"Have you _seen _yourself in anything else?"

"Well…no…"

"Exactly," I laughed, stopping him in front of the short-sleeved dress shirts.

"There's no way I'm wearing _that," _he said firmly. "It would look terrible, all prim and proper with my wild hair."

"It needs a trim, Blaine, it really does."

Blaine sighed tiredly.

"Look, Kurt, I'm really grateful that you're doing this for me, and I admit I do like those kinds of clothes, but people are already starting to suspect that something's up because we spend so much time together at school," he said quietly so no one around us could hear. "I really admire how comfortable you are with yourself, but I'm not there yet. If I wear clothes like that, they might start bullying me again, and I can't take that right now, I just can't."

I self-consciously dropped my hands from his shoulders, taking a half step away from him. He immediately looked guilty.

"Don't feel bad," I told him earnestly. "I'm used to it. Thank you for telling me that. Let's go find you some new jeans."

He gave me one more apologetic look before we moved to another part of the store.

Blaine actually picked out some blue jeans this time, as opposed to his usual black, and we found him some v-neck t-shirts that looked fairly nice. He went ito the dressing room to try them on, the lady helping us glancing between us with disdain, smacking her gum as she chewed it.

"Do you mind?" I asked pointedly as I waited for Blaine in one of the chairs outside the dressing room. She looked right at me, rolled her eyes, and continued the annoying sound. It made my anger flare up but I said nothing more; this was no worse than the treatment I received at school.

By the time we were done shopping, Blaine had a sizeable wardrobe, including a winter coat and a new pair of Converse. He'd refused to let me buy him anything unnecessary, despite me offering to get him an iPod. We also picked him up all the mandatory toiletries and things like that, and I bought a sweater that was simply too perfect to resist.

Blaine probably thanked me about three hundred times by the time we got out to the car with all of his bags, until I told him to shut up or I was kicking him out of my room so he'd have to sleep on the couch in the living room.

"Oh, but I'd still be in your dreams, annoying you until you let me back in again," he teased, climbing in the car. "And let's face it, you wouldn't last two nights without me."

I stared at him, because it was the first time either of us mentioned sharing dreams before. A small smile spread across my face as I started the engine.

"Yeah, you're probably right," I muttered. "You might wake up with both of us squeezed on that tiny couch."

Blaine grinned, wide and carefree and showing all of his teeth. I'd never seen him smile like that, but it was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen. For that moment he'd never been abused, he was just a loved teenager without a care in the world. I knew in that instant that it would be my life's mission to keep him smiling like that.

~.~.~.~

When I awoke the next morning before school, Blaine had already gotten up and gone upstairs. It was encouraging, because normally he would stay in bed reading until I got up so he wouldn't have to face my dad alone, but something was off. I could feel that something was very wrong, and I quickly threw off the blankets and dashed upstairs as fast as my tired legs would carry me.

Blaine and my father were sitting at the table eating breakfast, both still in pajamas but very much awake. To anyone else the scene would've looked normal, but I could feel Blaine's distress and I knew my father's face well enough to know something had happened.

"The police came to the house this morning," Dad said solemnly as I took a tentative seat beside Blaine. "Blaine's father was apprehended last night while trying to shoplift cigarettes. He told the cops Blaine was staying with us and they came over to ask some questions."

"What did they want to know?" I asked.

"Just if he was staying somewhere safe. They took a peek around, but the whole thing was made easier when we proved you were his soul mate."

Being someone's soul mate gave you legal rights, and though they were most often restricted to adult relationships, they certainly applied here.

"And everything's okay, right?" I clarified, looking from Blaine to my father. "He doesn't have to leave?"

"As long as Blaine wants to be here, he can be," he answered. "We don't have guardianship – that's still being held by his mom – but since you're Connected he can choose to stay with you instead, even if she wants him back."

Later when Blaine and I were getting ready for school, standing beside each other at the sink, I asked him about it.

"Are you okay?" I questioned. "I know you said you were okay with your father putting himself in jail, but…are you gonna be alright?"

"Honestly I don't know how to feel," he answered flatly. "I guess I'm kind of relieved, but I don't know. It's just weird, thinking of him there."

I never found out all of the details of what happened that morning. All I knew was that from then on, Blaine became almost as comfortable around my dad as I was.

**~.~.~.~**

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	9. Chapter 9

**Oliver Wood: This is it.**

**Fred Weasley: The big one.**

**George Weasley: The one we've all been waiting for.**

**~.~.~.~**

Friday night found all five of us gathered around a table at a Chinese restaurant, talking and laughing. Carole sat at the head, as my father had insisted because she was the "birthday girl". My dad and I sat on either side of her, across from each other, Finn on his left and Blaine on my right. The place was fairly crowded but not too loud, Asian art lining the walls and waiters bustling around, speaking rapid Chinese to the cook as they passed the kitchen.

"You've got something on your face," I told Blaine with a giggle, reaching up with my cloth napkin to wipe the orange sauce off the corner of his mouth.

"Aww," I heard a girl say as she passed our table, smiling at the sight of us. Blaine and I stared at her in shock; "aww" wasn't something gay couples in Ohio usually heard. We exchanged surprised glances and I grinned before going back to my shrimp lo mien.

Blaine and Finn cleared their plates first, the latter having wolfed down his dumplings before Blaine was halfway through with his General Sao's chicken. They started talking football, Finn catching Blaine up on what had happened so far in the season, giving play-by-plays of particularly memorable moments. It was nice to see the two of them getting along, considering they'd barely spoken before this, but this past week _had _been very encouraging regarding Blaine's comfort in our home. His smiles were still far-between and his laughs only light chuckles, but it was certainly progress.

"Alright, time to sing 'Happy Birthday'!" my father announced when they brought around dessert.

Carole blushed profusely as we began to sing to her, Finn and I on key and my dad not even really singing, more like talking. I was surprised to hear Blaine join in almost immediately, and the more I listened to him, the more amazed I became.

His voice was remarkable. He was singing a third below me, our voices in perfect harmony with one another. He wasn't loud and boisterously talented like Mercedes or Rachel, but his tone was so beautiful in its soft subtlety that it gave me goosebumps. I knew as soon as I heard him that Blaine's voice would be my new favorite sound, sharing the honor with my mother's laugh. It soothed me more than anything else could.

The simple song was over far too soon, Finn and my dad clapping while Blaine and I just kind of sat there. I could tell he'd heard it too, how well our voices went together, and I suddenly understood why me singing to him at night helped him sleep.

Blaine's leg brushed mine under the table, and whether it was accidentally or on purpose I couldn't determine.

~.~.~.~

"You should join Glee Club," I mused. I was applying the last of my skin creams, Blaine already lying in bed. It was his turn for the bigger one this week, and I was finally voicing something I'd been thinking about since I heard him sing to Carole earlier that night.

"What?" he said confusedly, still awake.

"You have a great voice," I continued. "You should put it to good use."

"I don't know," he muttered. I watched his curly head shift on the pillows in the mirror.

"You wouldn't have to sing solos or anything," I said, screwing on the cap to the ointment. "I just think you might enjoy it."

Blaine grunted noncommittally, turning his face into the pillows. I switched off the light and felt my way to the smaller bed as my eyes grew accustomed to the darkness.

"Do you _like _singing, Blaine?" I asked as I got situated under the blankets.

"I like hearing _you_ sing," he replied evasively, his voice slightly muffled on the other side of the room. I decided to drop the subject, not wanting to push him when things were going so well, and closed my eyes.

~.~.~.~

_I was backed up against a wall, tears streaming down my face, stinging the cuts there. My father was standing over me – except that it wasn't my father, it was Blaine's father, but it felt like he was mine – his eyes alight with rage as he cornered me. He sloppily threw a half-empty beer bottle at me, which I lithely dodged, as I'd done so many times. He yelled obscenities at me, spit flying from his mouth as he lifted his hand to strike me, my arms rising to block the blow-_

_ And suddenly he wasn't the drunken, angry man he'd been a moment ago. He was younger, his brown hair full and combed, face smooth and a gentle smile gracing his mouth. His hand was outstretched to help me up, and once I realized this I lowered my arms from their protective position._

_ A sharp slap stung my face, so hard that I blacked out for a second or two. When I opened my eyes again, my/Blaine's father was drunk and livid again, no longer the youthful, handsome man. He continued this, hitting and kicking me, turning into the kind man he used to be just as I tried to defend myself. I was aching and bleeding and the tears would not stop flowing, but I didn't make a sound. I _couldn't _make a sound; if I did, the abuse would become twice as bad._

_ "I'll kill you one day, faggot," he growled._

_ Those were the last words I heard when one final blow sent me reeling into nothingness._

~.~.~.~

I awoke with a start, shaking and bathed in cold sweat, my eyes wide and darting around the room. I was panting, trying to catch my breath as if I'd just run a mile, the blankets twisted around my ankles. I kicked them away, then heard Blaine's frantic breathing across the room, his anguish coupled with mine.

"Blaine," I whimpered, getting to my feet and going over to his bed.

"Kurt," he replied breathlessly, reaching for my hand. I grasped his in mine, lying down next to him. We were both trembling, both pairs of our hands clasped in a knot between us as we lay on our sides.

"It was just a dream," I murmured, both to him and myself. He nodded, his golden eyes still frightened as he clutched my hands.

"I-I was hoping that particular dream wouldn't be one I shared with you," he stammered. "It's bad enough you felt my emotions when he was going after me before."

"Carole says our Connection is the strongest she's ever seen," I said, trying to distract him.

"Really?"

I nodded. "Apparently not everyone can feel as much as we can, or control how much they feel."

We stayed quiet for a long time, our breathing eventually slowing to a sleepy pace. I absentmindedly rubbed the backs of Blaine's hands with my thumbs, making him sigh lightly.

"Wouldn't you be ashamed of me?" Blaine murmured after a while, eyes closed but brow furrowed disquietly.

"Hmm?" I said sleepily.

"If I joined Glee, wouldn't you be ashamed to be seen with me so much?" he clarified. "I mean, aren't you worried about what your friends think of us?"

I stared at him for a long moment, but his eyes were still squeezed shut.

"Blaine, I'm not ashamed of you," I whispered. His eyes opened then, shining orbs gazing into mine.

"I would be," he breathed. It broke my heart how self-deprecating he sounded.

"I don't care what my friends think of us, Blaine," I told him, clasping his hands tighter. "I don't care what _anyone _thinks of us."

He thought for a while, staring at our entwined hands pensively. I wondered if that was the reason he was hesitant about joining Glee, because he thought I'd be embarrassed to be thought of as his friend.

"We're going to be together a long time," I reminded him. "They better get used to us being friends."

This made him chuckle quietly for some reason.

"What?" I asked, not seeing how that was funny.

"It's just that we're talking about how it might be strange to be seen as friends, and yet look what we're doing right now." He squeezed my hands for emphasis. "This is the kind of thing couples do."

"We do a lot of things that couples do," I pointed out. "It's comfortable, even if our relationship isn't romantic. I don't know about you, but I feel really at peace when you're close."

"Me too," he replied with a soft smile.

"Must be a soul mate thing," I whispered. He hummed in agreement, his eyes slipping closed again.

It was hard to tell how long we lay there, but eventually Blaine's breathing deepened into that of sleep. I was struck once again by how perfect he looked, so innocent as he slept, our hands still clasped between us. I gently untangled one of mine, reaching over to brush my fingers across his slightly scratchy jaw.

That nightmare, Blaine's nightmare, had shaken me to my core. I hadn't wanted to dwell on it, but now Blaine was asleep and my mind was free to wander back to it.

Everything made sense now that I'd experienced firsthand how Blaine's compassion for his father prevented him from keeping himself safe, seeing it through his eyes rather than feeling it through our Connection. I knew why Blaine never made any sound when he cried, because he'd had to keep silent to prevent angering his dad further. Even the reason he had low self-esteem was because Rick Anderson had treated him like dirt all those years.

"I'm so sorry I didn't help you earlier," I whispered, my voice slightly choked my tears. I ran my fingers lightly over Blaine's cheekbones, tracing the miniscule scars there.

Very hesitantly, moving slowly so I wouldn't wake him, I leaned forward and pressed my lips softly to Blaine's forehead.

"I could never be ashamed of you," I whispered against his skin, closing my eyes. "You've been through so much, and you still manage to be as brave and compassionate as you are today. That's something to be proud of."

I stayed close to him that night as I slept, our noses touching and his hands enveloped in mine.

In my dreams, mixed with my name, I heard something else being said:

_"Thank you."_

~.~.~.~

On Monday Blaine and I were sitting across from each other at lunch, as per usual. We hadn't spoken of our shared nightmare since the night it happened, but it didn't need discussing.

"Do you need to audition to get into Glee Club?" Blaine asked suddenly, gathering some macaroni onto his fork.

"Uh yeah, but we're desperate enough to take anyone at this point, with Sectionals coming up," I said confusedly. We also hadn't talked about Glee since Friday. Blaine nodded thoughtfully, taking a bite of his pasta.

It wasn't until we were walking to English together that he brought it up again.

"Alright, I'll do it," he decided. "But only if you sing my audition song with me – you said I wouldn't have to sing any solos."

"That's great, Blaine!" I said enthusiastically once I realized what he was talking about. "What song do you want to sing?"

"I've got a few ideas," he said, but he'd barely finished his sentence when a meaty hand latched onto my arm, shoving me sideways into the bank of lockers.

Karofsky gave me a once-over, backing away and admiring his handiwork. I glared at him.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked, rubbing his own arm.

"I'm fine," I mumbled, straightening up and adjusting my jacket.

"No you're not," he said quietly. "I feel that between nearly every class; scared the hell out of me before I knew soul mates felt each other's pain."

"Sorry," I muttered as we continued to class.

_"You're _not the one who should be apologizing," he grumbled. I noticed that he'd now switched places with me, so he was walking on the inside near the wall, thus making it harder for anyone to knock me into the lockers.

~.~.~.~

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked Blaine as we stood outside the choir room. He nodded quickly, looking nervous. It was Thursday afternoon, after-school Glee rehearsal about to begin. We'd been rehearsing our number the past couple of days and I had complete faith in him, but I knew he wasn't as confident.

"Let's go," Blaine muttered, opening the door. I followed him inside, almost everyone already in his or her seats. Mr. Shue spotted us and approached with a smile.

"Nice to meet you Blaine, I'm Mr. Shuester," he introduced himself. "We're very glad to have you here."

"This is the three hundred pound, six-foot-two, teeth-filed-into-canines guy you were talking about?" Artie said skeptically to Puck. The delinquent shifted uncomfortably.

"Alright guys, this is Blaine Anderson," the teacher said to the class as Blaine and I took our seats on stools at the front of the room. "Give him and Kurt your full attention."

Mr. Shue wet to sit among the students and they looked at us expectantly, Santana winking at Blaine. I gave her my best bitch glare.

The band began to play the intro to the song Blaine had selected: "I'm Looking Through You" by the Beatles. When it was time for the vocals to kick in, he began to sing.

It was very obvious why he'd chosen this song. It was about caring for someone and then having him or her change to the point where you didn't know them anymore, clearly expressing how he felt about his father. I thought it was very brave of him to sing about something like that, especially in front of a bunch of people he didn't know.

I joined in on the parts where John Lennon backed up Paul McCartney, a third above Blaine. Because I knew the song so well, I could basically just sit back and enjoy the sound of our voices blending – despite having rehearsed this with Blaine several times, the sound still managed to awe me. Something told me it always would.

_"Why, tell me why, did you not treat me right?" _Blaine sang. _"Love has a nasty habit of disappearing overnight…"_

I frowned sadly, knowing all too well exactly whom he was talking about. It gave me comfort, however, when he sang, _"You were above me, but not today."_

I kind of lost myself in the song and Blaine's voice, but at one point I felt his eyes on me. I looked over and our gazes met, a small smile on his face as he sang, _"Your voice is soothing, but the words aren't clear."_

I smiled in spite of myself, because it felt like an inside joke about our joint dreams.

The song ended, the spell of our meshing voices broken. I gave Blaine a reassuring smile, which he returned.

"Holy crap!"

My eyes snapped up to meet Santana's incredulous face.

"You guys are Connected!" she realized.

My eyes widened, panicking momentarily. I glanced over at Blaine, who looked surprisingly calm; he knew they would figure it out if we sang that song together.

"Wait, seriously?" Puck said, gaping at us.

"Weren't you listening?" the Latina replied. "Only soul mates sound like that together."

"Finn, did you know about this?" Rachel asked her boyfriend, who fidgeted guiltily.

"Well, this explains a lot," Sam muttered.

"Guys, guys!" Mr. Shue said loudly, getting to his feet and trying to regain control of the class. "Listen, we will welcome Blaine with open arms, and the knowledge of his and Kurt's Connection will stay within this room until they're ready to tell everyone, understood?"

They all nodded, even Santana, though she did so rather grudgingly. I was surprised by their cooperation, but it acted as a firm reminder of one of the benefits of being in Glee Club: they were okay with this sort of thing. Anything out of the ordinary that passed through this group had to contend with Quinn's pregnancy or Rachel's "mamma drama", as it had come to be called.

"Alright, welcome to the club, Bad-Boy Gay," Mercedes said as Blaine and I took seats beside her. "But I'm warning you – if you break my boy's heart figuratively, I'll break yours _literally."_

Blaine glanced at me, trying to tell if he should be genuinely scared or not, and I tried not to laugh.

~.~.~.~

Blaine fit into Glee Club surprisingly well. He never said much, but he wasn't uncomfortable, and that was encouraging.

He now walked me to nearly every class, and though he wouldn't admit it, I knew it was to protect me from Karofsky's worsening harassment. It worked rather well, though lately the jock was developing new tactics of "accidentally" tripping me or knocking my things out of my hands so that they spewed all over the floor. One time he did this, Blaine tried to go after him and I had to grab his arm to pull him back.

"He's not worth it," I grumbled, stooping to gather my books.

_"You're _worth it," he insisted, helping me. "I sat down and took abuse for ten years and it made me miserable. I'm not about to let that happen to you."

He couldn't walk me to every class, though, risking being late if he did. I didn't mind; I was used to a locker shove here and there, but what Blaine had said was running through my mind as I was slammed into the wall again. I grimaced at the pain in my shoulder, looking up to meet Karofsky's eyes.

The way he _looked _at me, like he was putting me in my place, was what really set me off. I'd taken harassment from him since my very first week at this wretched school; I was _not _going to tolerate it any longer.

I chased after him, following him into the deserted locker room. I couldn't remember half of the things I said to him, only that I was letting out three years' worth of pent-up anger, trying to make him feel as worthless as he'd made me feel all through high school. He shouted back, of course, but I heard none of it. I was _done _letting him bring me down; he wasn't worth listening to. He wasn't worth watching my soul mate have to protect me when I could've just done this so long ago, and now that I had started there was almost no way to make me stop.

Karofsky found a way.

His ham-like hands gripped my face, roughly tugging me forward, his mouth pressing against mine.

The only thing that was going through my mind was _wrong._ Everything about what was happening was _wrong, _so incredibly wrong that it made my insides writhe and I nearly vomited. Karofsky's fast-food flavored lips were sealed so tightly against mine that it hurt, my teeth digging into the soft flesh. I tried my hardest to pull away, but he was holding me too fiercely, my eyes wide open so I could see his sweaty face directly in front of mine. I silently begged for it to stop, for this to be a nightmare, but I knew it wasn't.

My brain screamed for Blaine. I was thoroughly convinced that I would've actually called out if I could've, positively _needing_ him there. This was all too much for me to handle alone. I needed him to hold me as I had held him before, needed his warmth and smell and voice and gentleness, not this smothering torture Karofsky was forcing upon me.

I needed my soul mate.

Suddenly the brute pulled away. I knew he'd only been touching me for a few seconds, but it felt like an hour, quite like the moment I Connected with Blaine, but much worse. His hands were still on me but his grip had loosened. He moved back in as if trying to kiss me a second time, but I was ready. I shoved him back with both hands, the force knocking us both back a few steps.

I looked on in fear as Karofsky slammed his fists against his locker, storming out of the room.

I sunk shakily onto a bench, hugging myself as I began to tremble, feeling as if I was falling apart. Tears stung my eyes as I heaved dry sobs, my lips throbbing with pain as I silently begged for my Blaine.

A door was thrown open somewhere in the locker room, making me jump. Images of a livid Karofsky flashed through my mind, but it wasn't any of the football players.

"Blaine!" I sobbed. I'd never been so happy or so distraught as he ran over to me. He was beside me in seconds, sitting on the bench and pulling my shaking body into his arms without hesitation.

"What did he do to you?" he asked desperately.

"It should've been you," I started rambling. "It should've been you, Blaine, not him, it should've been you…"

"What should've been me?" he said gently, stroking my hair and laying my head against his shoulder.

"H-he _kissed _me," I stammered, as if what Karofsky did could actually be called a kiss. Blaine's arms tightened, his face pressing against me.

"Oh, Kurt…" he murmured, voice shaky. "I won't let him hurt you anymore, Kurt, I promise. You're safe."

I wrapped my arms around his neck, crying into Blaine's shirt. Not only did I feel violated, I felt like a traitor – like I'd betrayed my soul mate by letting Karofsky kiss me. Of course I knew there was really nothing I could've done, but it didn't keep me from feeling that way. It was a strong instinct, like the protectiveness Blaine and I felt over one another.

"I'm so sorry," I choked out into the fabric of his shirt.

"Don't you dare be," he whispered.

~.~.~.~

We didn't stay at school. Instead we went straight home and I immediately took a shower, trying to get the smell of body odor and McDonald's out of my nose. Besides, taking showers always clamed me down.

"Are you going to tell your dad?" Blaine asked as he sat on his bed, reading the second Harry Potter book.

"No," I decided. "He's got enough to worry about lately; I don't want to stress him out more."

"Well…you'll have to tell him eventually, right?" he verified. "I mean, you have to be safe."

"I told _you," _I pointed out.

"And I'd die for you," he said casually. "But I think we proved today that I can't keep Karofsky away from you. At least tell Finn or something."

"Finn knows I'm being bullied," I told him. "He said something about not being able to get Karofsky on his bad side because the football team dynamics would be thrown off or something."

"Bullshit," Blaine muttered. "You're practically his brother, you should be more important to him than a damn sports team."

"It's fine, Blaine, really," I insisted. He always started swearing when he got worked up about something. "What happened earlier was admittedly terrifying, but it's over and done with now. I'm fine."

"No you're not," he said knowingly. "You're scared. So am I. We can't lie to each other, remember?"

I sighed heavily, because he really had me there. I couldn't tell him the truth, that I didn't want anyone at risk because of me – Dad at risk of another heart attack and Blaine of getting his ass kicked by a football player twice his size.

"Look, if it gets worse, I promise I'll tell Dad," I said eventually.

"Thank you," Blaine said, going back to his book.

~.~.~.~

It was hard to think of anything besides Karofsky as I tried to sleep that night. My stolen first kiss kept replaying itself in my mind.

_It should've been Blaine, _I thought almost uncontrollably. _Blaine was supposed to be my first kiss, not him…_

I felt tears clog my throat and I bit my lip to hold back a sob. I didn't want to wake Blaine, as much as I needed him right now.

"Kurt?"

Blaine's tear-filled voice was very soft, but I heard it. I was on my feet within a second, drawn to him like a magnet as I dashed across the room, right into his open arms.

"Blaine," I whimpered as he pulled the blankets over both of us.

"I'm here," he murmured, wrapping his arms tightly around me.

He let me cry, let me get it all out, rubbing my back soothingly. I gripped his curls, reveling in their softness and never wanting to let go. I couldn't believe that once - forever ago, it seemed – I'd been disappointed at having Connected to Blaine. Now I wouldn't have it any other way; Blaine was truly amazing.

I didn't know how long we were laying there, but I did know that with each passing second I became more grateful for the boy holding me.

"I'm so sorry, Kurt."

Blaine's tear-choked words confused me, making me pull back so I could see his face.

"For what?" I muttered.

"For not being good enough," he answered, not meeting my eyes. "I'm never good enough. I wasn't good enough to make my mom want to stay, for my dad to love me, to keep you safe, for my own _soul mate _to love me…"

All I could do was stare as he rambled, trying to figure out how our thoughts could be going in such opposite directions.

"Blaine," I said gently, but he still wouldn't look at me. I tilted his chin up until his golden eyes met mine, glittering with unshed tears. We gazed at each other for a long time, letting my hand splay across his jaw.

"You're perfect," Blaine said in barely a whisper, "and all I have to give you is myself."

That one sentence – that one, miserably adorable sentence was what finally broke my resolve. It finally made me do something I should've done so long ago.

Very slowly I leaned in, still looking into Blaine's eyes. They momentarily widened with shock, and then fell closed as he met me halfway.

That moment when our lips touched for the first time was perfect, gentle bliss. It felt so right, like I'd waited a thousand years for this, and it was so much more than I imagined it to be.

We just lingered there for a very long moment, Blaine's eyelashes brushing my cheekbones. A wonderful feeling spread from my lips to the tips of my toes, making them curl as a shiver ran down my spine. At the same time our lips began moving, his warm and soft and wet against mine as they slipped past each other. Quiet, wet noises of skin on skin were the only sounds to be heard, the kiss slowly deepening. The hand I was keeping on Blaine's jaw migrated back to grip his hair, making him sigh softly. I wanted to get as close as I could to him, holding him tight as we familiarized ourselves with each other. His arms snaked around my waist and I never wanted it to end, but unfortunately we needed to breathe.

We broke away with a soft squelching sound, our breath slightly labored. I didn't loosen my hold on Blaine's hair, my heart gently pounding. I opened my eyes to see Blaine gazing at me with what could only be called adoration.

"Don't ever think that you're not enough," I whispered. "You're perfect too, you know. It's your parents' loss if they can't see that."

Blaine said nothing. He didn't have to; I could feel and see every emotion in his eyes. I knew he didn't believe me when I told him he was perfect, but I hadn't either when he said the same thing about me. I kissed his forehead lightly.

"Thank you," I murmured. "For everything you've done. I wouldn't be able to get through this without you."

"We protect each other," he said with a small smile. "It's our job."

I returned the smile, untangling my fingers from Blaine's hair so I could take his hands in mine. He squeezed them gently, then moved his head forward ever so slightly so that our noses were touching.

I don't know why, but I began to sing. Maybe it was because that was what we always did when we slept beside each other, or because of my new love for Blaine's voice. It was the song "Perfect" by Pink!, which was certainly fitting. I saw Blaine's eyes slip closed right before mine did, my heart warming when he joined in for the chorus. We sung it more softly and slowly than the original, much like I had done with "I Wanna Hold Your Hand", so that it sounded a bit like a lullaby.

As the song drew to a close, Blaine leaned in and kissed my cheek softly, his lips barely grazing my skin.

"Goodnight, Kurt," he whispered.

"Night, Blaine."

**~.~.~.~**

**REVIEW = PREVIEW**

** And by the way, did anyone notice that both Kurt and Blaine sang Beatles songs to their fathers that were originally written for a romantic context? I didn't even plan that! :D**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: I know it's long, but PLEASE read before you start reading the chapter!**

** First of all the song used in this chapter is a mash-up of "Unchained Melody" and "You're My Soul and My Heart's Inspiration" by the Righteous Brothers. To get to a video of it with lyrics, just add watch?v=62xdmYfvnWs to the YouTube url. Message me if you have any issues.**

** Also, thanks to the new brilliant ability of putting covers on stories, I have made one for Bad Connection :) Here's a link to the bigger version on my Tumblr, just remove the spaces: kenna7elefant . tumblr post / 24505377991 / this-is-the-cover-i-created-for-my-story-bad**

**~.~.~.~**

The more time went on, the more I began to wonder how I'd ever doubted Blaine would be a good soul mate. He now walked me to every class, despite the fact that sometimes we had to run to avoid being late. He was getting increasingly comfortable around my family, now good friends with Finn, and Glee Club was going very well.

We didn't want anyone to know that our relationship had recently become romantic yet. We still hadn't gone beyond just kissing, no make out sessions or anything, and I was perfectly happy with that. Anything physical with Blaine was risking his comfort – I knew for a fact that he was still very scarred by what his father did to him, physically and mentally, and I didn't want to push any of his boundaries.

Karofsky was still a huge issue, of course, but Blaine was now making every effort to keep me away from him. It made me feel guilty, really, that he felt like he had to do that for me. I could tell it was taking its toll on him.

But for now, much happier things occupied my mind: my dad and Carole had announced that morning that they were getting married, and I had been designated wedding planner. They wanted to tie the knot soon so they could have a fall wedding, which in my opinion was perfect because Carole looked great in autumn colors.

"Obviously we're going to have two best men," Dad was saying as we discussed wedding arrangements at the dinner table. "Finn, that means we're _both _gonna have to learn how to dance."

"And we want Blaine to be a groomsman," Carole announced happily. Blaine stared at her in shock.

"You're a part of this family now, kid," my dad said warmly.

"Uh, th-thank you," he stammered, grinning nervously.

"I've been looking at this house on Whitman Avenue," dad continued. "I like it a lot, it's got four bedrooms so Kurt and Blaine won't have to share and a section in the basement I can use as an office. It's also close to the tire shop and still in the McKinley district. The guy said it's ready to move in, we're all gonna have a look at it tomorrow."

The wedding was scheduled for next week, so we had a lot to do in Glee Club. Mr. Shue and Rachel were choreographing a musical walk down the aisle, or in this case dance down the aisle, having already picked out the perfect song. I made sure they wouldn't have Blaine dance with me in the number, and in the end we managed to work it out. The whole display was quite extravagant and I was really happy with it, even if I wouldn't be dancing with my soul mate.

Presently I was standing at my locker during fourth period, thinking about flower arrangements for the tables. I'd forgotten my math book and had gone to get it, figuring I'd be safe from Karofsky since the hallways were empty.

The heavy footsteps approaching me proved me wrong.

He didn't push me into my locker like he usually did, but somehow what he _did _do was so much more terrifying. He came up so that he was standing directly behind me, my hand freezing in the act of pulling out my textbook, his hot breath washing over my neck. I was completely still, eyes wide and heart pounding.

"What're you doing, Hummel?" he practically purred in my ear, if someone like Karofsky can purr. It really made me angry, because Blaine was the only person allowed to be close to me like this, to talk to me like that. The thought gave me enough courage to turn and face the hulking figure.

"I don't want you near me," I told him. I meant for it to sound menacing, but my shaking voice ruined the effect.

He said nothing, just studying me, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. Slowly he reached up with a paw-like hand, jabbing a finger roughly into my chest. He dragged it down my shirt, tracing torturously down my abdomen to my navel, where he let it fall.

I was trembling, barely able to breathe because this was all so _wrong. _ I was Blaine's and Blaine's alone, yet here Karofsky was, treating me like I was his to do what he wanted with. The scariest part was that he _could, _because there was nothing I could do about it.

"You haven't told anyone about our little incident last week, have you?" he asked, voice low and dangerous. I meant to make some witty remark, but it got lost in my throat and I settled for shaking my head. "Good, 'cause if you do, I'll _kill _you."

And then he was walking away, keeping his beady eyes on me until he was gone.

My mind felt numb, unable to process what happened. I stood unmoving; the only thought in my head being that Blaine could _never _find out about this. He would be in danger if he did, because I knew for a fact that he would try to go after Karofsky. Putting Blaine in danger was worse than a two hundred pound jock threatening my life.

I could feel Blaine panicking on the other end of our Connection, obviously alarmed by my sudden fear.

_Practice for Broadway, Hummel, _I thought determinedly. _Act. Keep him safe._

I forced myself to relax, pretending it had been nothing more than a locker shove, something I was all too used to. He seemed to believe me, calming down, and I sighed with relief.

I shut my locker and went back to class, forgetting all about my textbook.

~.~.~.~

The second I walked into English the next period my eyes locked with Blaine's, going to sit beside him at the back of the room.

"What happened?" he asked quietly as the rest of the class filed in.

"The usual. Nothing serious," I replied as nonchalantly as I could. "Just scared me is all."

There was a strange discomfort that came with lying to your soul mate, as I was now discovering. It made my insides writhe with guilt, a voice in the back of my head begging me to tell Blaine the truth. The voice ordering me to keep him safe was stronger, though; if I told Blaine he would try to defend me and either get beaten up or thrown back in juvie.

I saw Blaine glance around for a moment, then scoot his desk closer to mine. I gave him a questioning look, but then he was holding my hand under the table.

I raised my eyebrows, surprised to see him being affectionate in public. Granted we were at the back of the room where no one could see, but still, this was a huge step. Blaine gave me a small, reassuring smile, which I returned.

_Thank you, _I mouthed. He squeezed my hand briefly, the comforting warmth exactly what I needed at the moment.

~.~.~.~

It wasn't easy keeping things from Blaine, but as far as I could tell he didn't suspect anything. He still walked (and occasionally ran) me to every class and I avoided leaving the room whenever I could, successfully keeping my distance from Karofsky.

I realized after about a day that not only was I lying to Blaine, I was also breaking a promise I'd made him. I'd vowed to tell my father if the situation with Karofsky got worse, which it certainly had, but I hadn't said a word to him.

But it didn't matter; they didn't _need _to know, at least not until after the wedding. What I needed to focus on now was the fact that Finn and Dad both needed to dance with Carole and neither of them had the slightest idea how.

I enlisted Blaine to help with this, the four of us in the choir room after school. After I showed my dad the basic steps, Blaine practiced with him and I moved onto Finn. We were just squabbling about shutting the door when Karofsky saw us form the hallway.

"Who's that?" my father asked suspiciously as the jock walked away, no longer dancing.

"No one," I said quickly. "Just some jerk."

"Tell him, Kurt," Finn said quietly, surprising me. He hadn't even seemed to notice what Karofsky was doing to me these past few weeks.

"Tell him or I will," Blaine added.

"His name is Karofsky," I said defeatedly. "He's been harassing me all year."

"There's something else," my dad said. "There's something you're not telling me."

I glanced at Blaine, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"He threatened to kill me."

The flood of emotion from Blaine was sudden and potent, so much that I felt lightheaded. I'd felt this before firsthand, the strong instinct to keep my soul mate safe, but it felt fresh and terrifying every time. I didn't even notice my father and Finn leaving the room.

"Blaine!" I gasped. I felt the familiar tug to be closer to him, to protect him somehow. I knew the only reason he hadn't left the room yet was because he was torn between beating Karofsky and staying by me. I took advantage of his indecision, running to him and holding him back in case he chose the former.

"Blaine, please," I begged as he tried to get by me, gripping his arms firmly. His frantic eyes met my wide, desperate ones and he relaxed slightly in my hold.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked quietly. His voice was so betrayed and sad, eyes shining with tears as he stared up at me. I bit my lip, overwhelmed by guilt.

"I knew you'd go after him, I didn't want you getting hurt," I said honestly. "Or thrown back in juvie."

He examined my face, tears welling up in my eyes, but I was too afraid to let go of Blaine to wipe them away. My knuckles were white as the gripped his leather jacket, but I didn't need to worry, because after a moment he took me into his arms. My hands immediately latched around his neck, burying my face in Blaine's shoulder so that the smell of leather filled my nose.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, definitely crying now.

"No, I'm sorry," he murmured, his piercings cold against my skin as he laid his head against mine. "I should've known something was wrong." I pulled back to kiss his cheek before laying my head back down.

"Why can't they just give us a break?" I wondered.

At that moment my father and Finn reentered the room, both of them out of breath. Blaine and I drew back.

"He tried to go after Karofsky," Finn explained, Dad plunking down in one of the chairs. "I held him off, but he's still pretty pissed."

"Like _hell _I am," he panted. _"No one _threatens my son. Especially not some thug. I'm gonna go to the school about this, but believe me, I want to do much worse."

~.~.~.~

The next morning we had a meeting with Karofsky, his parents, and Principal Sylvester (I wasn't quite sure how she became principal, but I decided it was best not to question it). We had decided for Blaine's safety that it was better if he didn't come, but as Karofsky continually denied ever having gone near me, I wished he were there.

It was looking rather good for us, though. Ms. Sylvester was definitely more supportive than the slightly homophobic Figgins, and Mr. Karofsky was on our side too.

At one point, I considered telling them what happened in the locker room. It could be considered sexual assault and definitely would've gotten the jock expelled, but then Karofsky gave me this _look_. He was scared, confused, and I knew I couldn't out him like that.

In the end it was a victory. Karofsky was expelled – I wouldn't have to walk the hallways in fear anymore, or at least not more than anyone else in Glee Club, which was a luxury I hadn't had since middle school. As soon as I told Blaine he enveloped me in a bear hug, right in the middle of the hall where everyone could see, making my heart soar.

For the first time in a while, things were starting to look up.

~.~.~.~

Things were going quite well for Kurt Hummel. It was the day of the wedding and everything was going according to plan, I hadn't even _seen _Karofsky for three days, Blaine was actually _happy _and we were both safe for a change…in short, I felt on top of the world.

I was currently in the dining room before the ceremony, empty except for a few staff setting tables. I meandered around, adjusting flower arrangements here and there, everything looking great.

"We've come a long way," said a familiar, happy voice behind me.

"We certainly have," I agreed, straightening a fork on the table before looking up to meet Blaine's eyes. My jaw dropped.

Blaine looked amazing. He had cut his hair the day before (finally) and it was now gelled into a neat part, creating a very dapper effect. All of his piercings had been taken out, his well-fitted suit perfectly accenting his figure. He looked nothing like the juvenile delinquent I had Connected to, and yet he'd never looked more like himself. It was very…sexy.

"You look perfect," he told me, stepping closer and slipping his hands out of his pockets.

"Speak for yourself," I said a little breathlessly. Blaine smiled and stepped in front of me, so close that our lips were a whisper's distance from each other.

The air seemed somehow charged with something that had never been there before – it was a kind of pull, a desperate need to kiss _now, _despite the staff meandering between the tables or the fact that the wedding would begin in a half hour. I could feel my heart accelerating, Blaine's shallow breath washing over my face as we leaned in -

"Uh, guys?"

Our heads snapped up at the sound of Rachel's voice, my cheeks reddening. She was in a knee-length red dress, her hair pulled back and trying to hide her smile.

"I should um…I'll just…" Blaine said awkwardly, blushing and looking down as he slunk out of the room. I sighed sadly, longingly as he disappeared around the corner.

"You okay?" Rachel asked, stepping closer. "You and I haven't really had a chance to talk since I found out you were Connected…"

"I'm fine," I assured her, albeit unconvincingly. "Just…a little sad."

"I'm here if you wanna talk about it."

I sighed heavily.

"It's just…you have it so easy," I said eventually. "With you and Finn, everything is so natural. Blaine's amazing, but…he's not even going to touch me tonight. Not with all these people here. I've always known that being gay and all, physical contact would have to be kept to a minimum in public, but I just want _one night _with my friends and family where I can show off my soul mate."

It felt like a huge weight was being lifted off my chest as I said that. I could finally get rid of that nagging feeling that something was off, now that I'd acknowledged it.

"Well, it's only a matter of time before that changes," Rachel said comfortingly, placing a hand on my arm. "Just watch – in no time, Blaine's going to realize exactly what he's got, and then he won't be able to keep his hands off you ever again."

"Thanks," I muttered, smiling gratefully. "I guess I'm just jealous that you and Finn will be dancing tonight without giving a second thought. It's going to be a while before I get my first dance with Blaine."

"Well, you never know," she said with a shrug. "If he doesn't dance with you tonight, you can bet that I will."

"I'm honored," I chuckled. "Now come on – we've got a wedding to attend."

~.~.~.~

All of us were waiting outside the doors to the room where the ceremony was about to begin, trying to stay quiet in our excitement. I caught Blaine's eye across the room and we exchanged smiles, but we had to stay in formation while we waited for our cue.

The music started, slightly muffled by the wooden doors, and Finn waited for a few counts before entering, Rachel following close behind. They started singing "Marry You", and shortly after I went out with Quinn on my arm, joining in and dancing down the aisle. We were followed by Sam and Mercedes, then Mike and Tina, then Santana and Brittany. Blaine came out last, dancing with Carole's younger sister Joanne, who was Carole's maid of honor. Puck wheeled Artie out, who was waving streamers.

The display had a nice effect, all of the girls in dresses of different styles but the same shade of fiery red, the boys in suits with orange flowers in the lapels, matching the ones in the girls' hair. The wedding guests certainly seemed to enjoy it, Mr. Shue among them in the pews.

My dad danced in wearing a tux, making me laugh as the others continued to sing, giving Carole a grand entrance. She looked stunningly beautiful, of course, seeing as I'd helped her pick out the dress, positively _glowing _with happiness as my father led her down the aisle.

The ceremony was short; to make sure everyone remained conscious the whole time. My dad gave a beautiful speech that made me cry.

I couldn't see Blaine because he was standing behind me, Finn and Joanne on Carole's side, and I wanted desperately to turn and look at his face. This might be us someday, after all – standing across from each other at the alter, exchanging vows with tear-filled eyes. I sincerely hoped it would be.

~.~.~.~

At the reception I sat at the long rectangular table in the front of the room, Blaine on my right and Dad's empty chair on my left. He was currently on the dance floor with Carole for the first dance, and doing a very good job, I might add. My lessons had definitely paid off.

The evening was very interesting. People kept coming up to the head table to congratulate my dad and new step mom, but then they'd ask who Blaine was, none of them ever having seen him before. We stuck to the story that he was my friend from school that came to live with us because of his situation at home, which wasn't really untrue.

At one point nearly everyone was on the dance floor, Blaine getting food and leaving me alone at the table. I wanted to dance with Mercedes just for fun, but it was a slow, romantic song, so naturally she was in Sam's arms. Even Quinn had busied herself talking to Artie, so I just watched the couples turn on the dance floor. I wished I were up there with Blaine, getting my first _real _dance.

"Kurt?"

I glanced up at the sound of Blaine's quiet voice, standing beside my chair. He looked a bit nervous, then held out his hand to me.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked.

I couldn't stop the wide grin spreading across my face as I nodded, taking his hand and letting him lead me to the dance floor. I recognized the song as a Righteous Brothers medley, the classic humming beautifully in the background. Blaine and I effortlessly fell into step, our movements perfectly in sync.

_Oh my love, my darling_

_I've hungered for your touch_

_A long, lonely time…_

"I can't believe we're doing this," I whispered giddily as we spun slowly. "I thought you weren't ready…"

"I'm trying to me," Blaine replied, his eyes locked with mine. "You deserve it, Kurt. I'm yours, and you're mine; they can see that if they want."

_…And time goes by, so slowly_

_And time can do so much_

_Are you still mine…?_

The other people in the room seemed to slowly disappear as we danced, Blaine's eyes drawing me in so that I could see nothing else, just like when we Connected. He pulled me closer, my head resting on his shoulder, and I let my eyes slip closed. I sighed contentedly.

_…I need your love_

_I need your love_

_Godspeed your love_

_To me…_

"I'm sorry it took me so long," Blaine murmured, his breath tickling my ear.

"For what?"

"For me to see that you're the best soul mate anyone could ask for."

He meant it, too - I could feel it. With all of his heart he meant it.

_…Lonely rivers flow to the sea, to the sea_

_To the open arms of the sea_

_Lonely rivers sigh,_

"_Wait for me, wait for me_

_I'll be coming home, wait for me"…_

"I'm sorry too," I said quietly. "For judging you, for not helping you sooner, for ever doubting that you were everything I could ever ask for…"

"Believe me, Kurt, you're long past forgiven," Blaine laughed gently.

_…Oh my love, my darling_

_I've hungered for your touch_

_A long, lonely time…_

"I've been looking for you – waiting for you forever," Blaine whispered. "Waiting for someone to save me, to care about me."

"I thought you said you didn't think you'd ever Connect," I recalled.

"I didn't, but I hoped. This has always been my greatest dream, Kurt. To be safe, in the arms of someone who's as devoted to me as I am to them."

Tears sprung to my eyes at Blaine's words and I gently kissed his neck, unable to help myself. I felt so honored to be able to make that dream a reality, words couldn't express it.

_…And time goes by so slowly_

_And time can do so much_

_Are you still mine…?_

"Thank you so much, Kurt," Blaine said slightly tearfully. "You changed my life, you changed _me; _I just wish there was a way for me to repay you."

"You don't have to repay me," I laughed softly. "You already have. You changed me too, for the better. Just keep being you. That's all I ask."

_…Oh I…I really need your love_

_Godspeed your love_

_To me!_

"There are honestly no words for how much you mean to me," Blaine muttered. I was about to say something in response when the singer on the track began speaking. Evidently we were listening to a live recording, containing a kind of poetic, spoken interlude.

_"Baby," _the crackly recording began, _"I can't make it without you. And I'm…I'm tellin' you, honey; you're my reason for laughing, for crying, for living, and for dying."_

I pulled back to look at Blaine, no longer spinning. Our eyes locked and we just knew that we had, indeed, found the words we both needed.

We moved forward at the same time, our lips meeting in the middle in a gentle yet passionate kiss. The singing picked up again and the song grew into a beautiful crescendo, my arms winding around Blaine's neck and his pulling me closer. Our mouths moved slowly against each other, warm and deep and perfect.

_Baby, I can't make it without you!_

_Please, I'm begging you baby_

_If you go it will kill me, I swear this!_

_You know I just can't make it…_

Later I would look back on this moment and realize it was just like an old movie, except that there were no gays in old movies, but at the moment all I could think about was the fact that this was the best kiss, the best _thing _I'd ever experienced. I could feel every ounce of adoration Blaine felt for me, giving it all right back to him in the sweet, powerful gesture. Our tongues slid against one another's, memorizing each other's mouths, doing things no one else would ever be allowed to do. An intense, warm feeling built up in my chest, fueling my actions and making me realize how indescribably incredible the boy in my arms was, threatening to burst out of my ribcage.

It felt like love.

_…You're my soul and my heart's inspiration_

_You're all I've got to get me by_

_You're my soul and my heart's inspiration_

_Without you baby, what good am I?_

_ What good am I?_

~.~.~.~

I was in an _unbelievably _good mood for the rest of the night, Blaine's hand clasped in mine for the majority of the time. We hung out with the New Directions and my family in turn, everything seeming five times better than normal. Blaine even got talking with Puck and laughed, actually _laughed, _loudly and uncontrollably. He was smiling so wide his eyes crinkled, seeming to light up the room. It was the first time I'd ever seen him like that, and it made me ridiculously happy.

"Did you sneak some champagne or something?" I asked him once his fit of laughter died down.

"If I did you'd probably know," he pointed out. "Is it really that unusual for me to be this carefree?"

"Yes," I answered immediately, making him laugh again.

It was rather awkward to explain to my relatives that yes, Blaine _was _my soul mate, since we'd told them otherwise earlier that night, my drunken Aunt Mildred claiming she'd known the whole time. Otherwise, though, the evening was flawless. My dad and Carole were so beautiful together and Finn even danced with me to "Just the Way You Are" to apologize for not being there when Karofsky was going after me. It was sweet and meant a lot, even if he had come around a little late, because honestly Finn _always _came around a little late.

Towards the end of the night, right before people started leaving, Rachel got up on the stage between songs and took the mike.

"Would Kurt and Blaine please come to the stage?" she asked, a mischievous grin on her face as the rest of the New Directions assembled behind her.

Blaine and I glanced at each other, both of us completely clueless. We eventually got to our feet and met them on the stage.

"We thought this would be a fitting song for you two to sing together," Rachel said into the microphone, smiling at Blaine and I. Next thing I knew she was forcing the mic into my hand and scurrying off to join the rest of the New Directions behind us. Finn handed Blaine another microphone and they all began to sing.

I recognized the song immediately, notorious for being one of the songs we sang with no rehearsal at Sectionals, after our set list was stolen. I felt myself blush as the wedding guests watched, shooting a questioning glance at Blaine, silently asking, "Are we really going to do this?"

Blaine's face split into a grin, and without hesitating at his cue, he began to sing, _"I saw her today at the reception, a glass of wine in her hand. Oh I knew she was gonna meet her Connection…"_

He looked so at home on the stage, doing the cutest little dance, his sparkling eyes never leaving mine. It was amazing how much he'd transformed over the past month, from broken and dejected to put-together and happy. My heart warmed as he sang his part, and soon after I joined in.

The song was extremely fitting, me singing the female part and Blaine the male, though he hit all the falsetto notes with me. The line _"you can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, well you just might find you get what you need" _certainly reflected our relationship thus far, the smiles never fading from either of our faces the whole song.

It was by far the most fun I'd had in a long time. I was surrounded by friends, family, and singing a duet with my soul mate – what could be better?

Blaine and I threw our hearts into the song, along with the rest of the glee club. Mercedes was belting out her famous vocal runs and the wedding guests were loving it, dancing enthusiastically with their respective Connections. When it came to an end, Blaine threw his arm around my shoulders and planted a kiss on my cheek, everyone applauding us.

I knew that I would remember this moment forever.

**~.~.~.~**

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	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Well hello there. How are you all this fine evening? Guess what? You get a chapter a day early. Shocking, right? The reason is simple: I have exams tomorrow and I'm procrastinating studying for them, so instead I wrote a Klaine make out session! YOLO!**

**~.~.~.~**

I was still giddy by the time I crawled into bed late that night, buzzing with happiness and far too alert to sleep. Blaine was humming "Unchained Melody" as he shut off the bathroom light, accompanying the soft sounds of him padding across the carpet and pulling back the sheets, getting settled in on the bigger bed.

"I had a lot of fun tonight," I told him, turning on my side to face his general direction in the darkness.

"Me too," he murmured from about five feet away, a smile in his voice. "I've never been to a wedding before. It was a lot less boring than I thought it was gonna be."

"I'm glad," I laughed softly.

We were silent for a few minutes before Blaine's voice quietly broke the silence.

"I never got to kiss you, though…"

I felt my skin flush and a smile spread across my face at his words.

"Maybe we could fix that," I whispered shyly.

Almost instantly I heard the rustling of blankets, Blaine's form growing clearer as he approached me in the darkness. When he was right in front of me I could dimly make out the smile on his face, kneeling beside my bed. I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the mattress, taking his face in my hands.

We just stared at each other for a long moment, Blaine's eyes sparkling with happiness as he grinned up at me. I grinned back, then leaned in and pressed my lips to his.

The air had that same charge again as we melted against each other. Blaine wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer so that his torso was between my legs, igniting a thrill in the pit of my stomach.

Our tongues delved into each other's mouths, revering and enjoying as opposed to exploring, as we'd done the previous times we'd kissed like this. My hands moved back to grip Blaine's curls, which were slightly damp from when he washed out the gel. Blaine sighed with pleasure.

I couldn't recall a time when I'd ever felt safer, or happier. Everything felt right, Blaine's warm arms reassuring around me, our lips and tongues sliding wetly against each other. It was like we were born to do this.

I decided to try something new, moving my mouth from Blaine's lips and kissing down to his neck, my tongue darting out to taste him.

_"Kurt,"_ Blaine gasped, his head falling back. I cradled it in my hands as I moved down to his collarbone, completely following my instincts as I began to suck at the skin there. Blaine clutched at my back and moaned, actually _moaned, _and it was by far the sexiest thing I'd ever heard.

The thrill in the pit of my stomach hadn't ceased, now turning into a coiling heat as I worshipped Blaine's neck. The pleasure was double, I realized, because I could feel Blaine's as well as my own. It was very encouraging, allowing me to know exactly what Blaine liked, and I used it to my advantage.

After I was sure there would be a mark on Blaine's collarbone in the morning, I lifted my head to seal our lips together again, the kiss passionate and deep. I'd had so many dreams of kissing my soul mate like this, before I even met Blaine, and it was so much more meaningful and pleasurable than I imagined.

After a few minutes of this, Blaine took hold of my leg by the back of my knee, lifting it until it was hitched around his hip. I got the hint and wrapped both legs around him, holding him tight against me. Blaine got a firm grip around my waist and then he was lifting me up, staggering to his feet without breaking the kiss. He walked us over to the bigger bed, gently laying me down on it and following so that he was hovering above me, his legs on either side of mine.

"Blaine," I whimpered as he began kissing down my jaw, back towards my ear. He kissed my earlobe, then after a moment's deliberation, took it into his mouth.

"Oh!" I gasped as he began sucking on it, my breathing having long turned to breathless panting.

I was desperate to have Blaine closer to me, to feel more of his flesh against mine, trailing my hands up and down his sides. I stopped at the hem of his cotton pajama shirt, fiddling with the fabric and silently asking permission.

Blaine pulled back to look at me, slight fear in his eyes, pupils blown with lust.

"Kurt…" he whispered uncertainly.

"Only if you're comfortable," I assured him, trying to slow my breathing enough to form words. "I don't want to go too far either."

"I want to, I just…" Blaine made a noise between a whimper and a sigh. I reached up to touch his face.

"What is it?" I murmured.

Blaine looked at me for a long moment, licking his lips nervously. Eventually he huffed out a sigh and sat up so that he was seated on my lap, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes in a painful-looking way.

"Blaine," I muttered, sitting up as well and tugging his hands away from his face.

"It's not exactly a pretty sight," he said quietly after some time. "I mean, my dad…"

I took Blaine into my arms as soon as I realized what he was talking about, burying my face in his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around me.

"Blaine, it's you. It can't be anything _but _a pretty sight," I whispered, trying to ease the tension. I felt him smile against my neck and I reached down to the hem of his shirt again.

"May I?" I asked gently. He nodded and pulled away slightly as I started pushing the fabric up, running my hands over the hot skin of his back. Blaine raised his arms and let me tug off the shirt.

Blaine's body was as amazing as it was sad. Toned muscles formed dunes under his slightly hair-covered skin, rising and falling as he waited with bated breath for my reaction. He looked strong but not bulky and gross, the balance highly attractive.

But the planes of his chest and stomach were also marred by what were unmistakably scars, some short and deep, others long and shallow. They flecked his skin, white against his olive tone, far too many to count. Some looked much newer than others, as if he'd gotten them the night that he showed up on our doorstep.

Hesitantly, I reached out to run my fingers lightly over Blaine's warm flesh. He shivered delicately, his eyes slipping closed and mouth falling open. I leaned down slightly to kiss the spot right below his collarbone.

"Beautiful," I whispered, resting my hands on his bare hips. When I tilted my head back up to look at Blaine, his eyes were shining with unshed tears of gratitude.

I knew he was exposing a fragile part of himself to me; I had to show him I'd treat it with care.

Blaine cupped my face and brought my lips back to his, slow and gentle but building. I sighed and melted into it, snaking my arms around his waist. I loved the feel of his soft skin, punctuated by the foreign ridges of the scars.

It wasn't long before Blaine started fiddling with the buttons of my silk nightshirt. I helped him get them all undone and he gently pushed the cloth off my shoulders. I couldn't find the strength to care if it got wrinkled from sitting in a heap as Blaine lightly traced the planes of my chest, still kissing me. After a moment he pulled back to look.

I knew my chest was as pale as the bed sheets we were sitting on. I knew that while taut from dancing, my muscles weren't exactly prominent. I knew I was skinny, with a slightly feminine figure.

I also knew down to my core that Blaine wouldn't care. Sure I wasn't the fantasy hunk that every gay guy secretly craved, but we were soul mates, and that meant feeling this way for each other despite our flaws.

I didn't, however, expect Blaine to look completely awestruck, reverently brushing his fingers across my skin and drinking in my appearance. When he finally looked up to meet my eyes, his were full of wonder. He cupped my face with one hand and let the other wander to my lower back, bringing me in for a short, searing kiss.

"You're – _god, _Kurt, you're gorgeous," Blaine said breathlessly, his breath washing over my kiss-swollen lips.

I wanted to deny his statement, but honestly I just wanted to kiss him again, throwing my arms around his neck and pressing our lips together. Our bare chests met and it sent a jolt of pleasure through my body, both of us groaning. I never would've guessed it would feel this good, but feeling Blaine's heartbeat so close to mine and his muscles expanding and contracting with each frantic breath had my mind reeling nonsensically.

It was amazing, the things Blaine's mouth, hands, and body in general were doing to me. I could literally feel myself falling apart under his touch, as if my very being was being ripped at the seams in the most glorious way conceivable. I couldn't imagine anyone else doing the same things to me and making me feel the way Blaine was right then. Something about this boy – my soul mate – made my heart swell and thump erratically, made my toes curl from sheer pleasure, made me want to give him everything he was giving me, only ten times over. The very best part was that I could feel, see, and hear Blaine coming apart too. He was moaning, writhing, clutching, and it had become impossible to tell if it was his pleasure or my own shooting down my spine.

Of course I had thought about Blaine's beauty, his attractiveness before, but never in my life had I wanted – no, _needed _– someone physically as much as I did then. My body ached to know every inch of his, to discover the little things that made him make those sexy noises, but equally I yearned for Blaine to touch me, to press harder against me, to make my mind so muddled with blissful thrill that nothing else in the world mattered except our bodies slowly becoming more entangled…

I was nearly to that point, my eyelids heavy and short gasps being torn from my throat as Blaine kissed, sucked, and nipped further down my body. I gripped his curls tightly, holding him to my skin as he made his way to my left nipple.

"Oh!" I screamed, a jolt of pleasure shocking my system and making my entire body convulse. Blaine's tongue and teeth gently but methodically worked at the nub, his hands ghosting up and down my sides and his breath washing over my chest. I arched up against his mouth and he took the opportunity to slip an arm under me, holding me up and closer to him.

I couldn't believe we'd gone this long without doing anything like this. I knew _why_, but now that we'd started it didn't seem likely that we'd ever be able to stop. It felt like an impossibility that just a few short months ago, Blaine and I had resented each other, because now he seemed like the most incredible person in the world.

After Blaine was done treating my nipple, he brought his lips back up to mine and we kissed deeply, with a passion that was almost too much to bear, yet I wanted more.

More would have to wait, though, simply because it _could _wait. We were young and had all the time in the world for _more; _so new to this that going further now would be nothing short of stupid. Blaine and I both seemed to sense that, our kisses slowing. They grew languid and gentle, and eventually Blaine ended up sprawled across my chest, the only sound in the air being our pounding hearts gradually slowing, our labored breathing coming back to normal.

Blaine looked blearily up at me, his eyes tired but so bright with happiness that I could've cried. He took one of my hands and laced our fingers together, looking suddenly uncertain.

"Forever?" he asked timidly.

I immediately understood the implications of that one, simple word.

"Forever," I agreed.

~.~.~.~

Things continued in a blissful manner for the next couple of days. We moved into our new house, 415 Whitman Avenue, creating a strange but charming mix of our things and the Hudsons'. Blaine and I got bedrooms on the second floor that were connected by a full bathroom and a full furniture set had been ordered for Blaine so we wouldn't have to keep switching beds.

"I think this is yours," I said as I carried a swiveling desk chair into Blaine's room on moving day. I set it down and went over to help him move his new dresser. His furniture was all black-stained wood, very sleek-looking.

"This is so weird," Blaine muttered to himself, half-laughing as we set down the furniture.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm just very out of my element," he explained, un-packaging his new bed sheets. "I've never had anything like this. It was strange enough sharing a room with you, but _this…_I'm not used to having my own stuff. Remember my shoebox? There's a reason I hid it under the couch; my dad didn't like the idea of me having anything to himself, anything he could sell to buy more booze."

I shuddered, thankful for the umpteenth time that Blaine no longer resided with that horrible snot wad of a man.

"Well, you won't have to worry about that anymore," I reminded him, earning a smile.

It was strange sleeping without Blaine there that night. I was so used to being lulled to sleep by the sound of his deep breathing, being able to see his form silhouetted in the moonlight just a few feet away. It took me a little longer to fall asleep that night, but at least I would have Blaine's presence in my dreams.

When I awoke in the middle of the night, it was because the mattress was shifting as Blaine crawled into bed next to me.

"Who wouldn't last two nights without who, now?" I teased sleepily, snuggling into his arms.

"Oh shut up," Blaine whispered affectionately, kissing me chastely before we both drifted off again.

I should've known all of it was too good to last.

**~.~.~.~**

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	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: This one is early too, I know, but I actually have some bad news – this story is going on a short hiatus, NOT because I'm having writer's block or something awful like that, but because I'm going to New Mexico for two weeks to a place with no internet connection. Yeah. I'm gonna die. Sorry my lovely readers :'(**

**~.~.~.~**

I supposed I should've expected our time of endless happiness to come to an end at some point. I just never thought it would be because of something this bad.

When we left the principal's office I was literally shaking with fear. It was the end of the school day but Glee rehearsal was still in session, my feet automatically dragging me there.

"We'll talk when you get home," my dad said solemnly, patting my shoulder as he and Carole left. I nodded robotically and went into the choir room.

Everyone seemed so happy. They were all messing around, laughing and talking, Blaine among them looking resigned. His head turned at the sound of the door closing, eyes meeting mine, looking anxious.

"Kurt, what's wrong?" Mr. Shue asked. The class fell silent, everyone looking at me.

"Karofsky's coming back," I told them in a shaking voice. "His mom didn't think his expulsion was justified and she appealed to the school board."

"Wait, what? That's not fair!" Finn said incredulously.

"Well, there was no witness to him hurting me-"

"What about me?" Blaine fumed.

"Even if he didn't see it, Finn said your Connection was strong enough to feel something like that," Rachel added.

"His word isn't valid," I explained tiredly. "Soul mates are known to side with each other no matter what the circumstances."

"So…what're you gonna do?" Puck asked quietly, voicing my thoughts.

"I don't know," I muttered.

The car ride home with Finn and Blaine was awkwardly silent. Finn kept shooting me worried glances, which was concerning considering he was _driving._ Eventually I snapped at him to keep his eyes on the road and he obeyed immediately. Geez, you'd think I was going to drop dead at any moment or something.

Blaine was surprisingly calm. Worried, of course, but he was keeping his head, which I greatly appreciated.

When we got home, Carole and Dad were talking quietly at the dining room table. Finn went up to his room, muttering something about homework.

"Have a seat, boys," Carole said gently.

Blaine and I sat across from the two adults, Blaine's leg brushing mine comfortingly under the table.

"We have some things we need to discuss," my dad said. He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table and hands clasped, the posture he always held when he was about to have a serious talk. "We did some research and found an all-boys private school over in Westerville. They have a zero-tolerance for bullying policy and their own glee club."

"Dalton Academy?" I guessed, recalling Mr. Shue discussing our competition for Sectionals. Dad nodded.

"We want to use our honeymoon savings to send you there," Carole said.

My eyes widened and I was just about to protest, but she cut me off.

"Your safety is more important than a trip we can take any old time, sweetheart."

"But of course, we can only afford to send one of you," Dad said.

I froze. That would mean leaving Blaine behind at McKinley with a homophobic murderer, the very thought making me slightly sick. Not to mention that Dalton was a boarding school nearly two hours away. I would be away from my friends and family and oh god they probably had _uniforms…_

"We'll give you some time to think and talk it over," I heard my dad say. "Karofsky comes back on Monday, so you'll have the weekend to decide."

I nodded, biting my lip and wondering what the hell I was going to do.

~.~.~.~

"You're going to go, right?"

We were sitting side by side on the couch, snuggled under one blanket with my head resting on Blaine's shoulder and our feet touching on the ottoman they were propped up on. We had been watching Moulin Rouge, but I was far too stressed to actually pay attention.

I knew what Blaine was talking about as soon as he said it.

"Should I?" I muttered.

"Of course," he replied. "I mean, it's the only way for you to be safe. It only makes sense."

"But what about you? If you think I'm going to leave you at McKinley unprotected, you're insane."

"It's not _me _Karofsky threatened to kill," Blaine reminded me. "He only wants to get rid of you because he's scared you'll spill his secret. He doesn't even know we're Connected."

I groaned. "But I don't _wanna _go to Dalton," I whined, turning to press my face into Blaine's cardigan (which he had a strange affinity for now, his leather jacket hung up seemingly for good). I felt him laugh, his hand rubbing my back.

"I know," he murmured. "I'm gonna miss you, but it's like Carole said; your safety is more important than that."

"I'll miss you too," I sighed. "And Dad, Carole, Mercedes, Rachel, Finn, Mr. Shuester – hell, I'll even miss _Puckerman."_

We watched the movie for a few minutes, but neither of us was really taking it in anymore.

"I'm so tired of this," I whispered, closing my eyes. "I just want to be able to stop worrying all the time. Why can't they just leave us alone? When can we stop constantly looking over our shoulders to see who's going to attack next?"

Blaine said nothing but held me tighter; he was just as clueless as I was.

~.~.~.~

"I hate packing," I decided as I carefully put one of my new jackets in a suitcase. "It's just a big hassle. My clothes get wrinkled and I just _know _I'm forgetting something…"

"I'm not sure why you're bringing so many clothes," Blaine said from where he was sitting on my bed. "The school has _uniforms, _remember?"

"Ugh, don't remind me," I grumbled. "What on Earth made them think that navy, red, grey, and white looked good together, honestly? I'll look like an American flag."

"You'll look stunning, as always," he said with a devilish smile.

It really pissed me off that I had to leave Blaine. We'd come so far, not just in our relationship, but also in his life in general. After the wedding his piercings had never gone back in and his leather jacket sat gathering dust on the back of his desk chair. He and Finn were good friends and finally, _finally _he was building some of his confidence and self-worth back up again after his father spent ten years literally beating it out of him.

Not only that, but Blaine was doing such good things for me. He had changed my outlook on people, made me more grateful for the things I had, including him. I hated to leave right when we were both so happy.

Saying goodbye to the New Directions was a rather emotional affair. Mercedes made me promise to Skype her at _least _four times a week and text her everyday, Rachel telling me she'd already planned our next ladies' night. Mr. Shue clapped me on the back and gave me some cheesy, nonetheless encouraging advice, and all the football players vowed to keep Blaine safe.

"We'll form a perimeter around him like the Secret Service," Puck assured me.

Santana approached me next, looking like she was about to insult me rather than say goodbye.

"I guess I should say that I'm truly sorry Gay One and Gay Two have to be separated," she said grudgingly. "And I'm sorry I called you George Takei and Gaysee McGlitterpants before I knew your name…and after."

"Thank you Santana," I said with a smile.

"Don't mention it. Seriously. Never speak of it again."

Dad and Blaine drove me to Dalton. It was series of large brick buildings, sweeping lawns and well-rimmed bushes out front. On our way in to the office we were passed by several students, all clad in the hideous blazer and reminding me of robots. Blaine wrinkled his nose at the sight of them, and while I felt like doing the same I refrained; I would soon be one of them.

They gave us an introduction to the school, including a student handbook and map for me, and then we went to find my dorm. Thankfully it was a single, one of the perks of transferring in the middle of the year.

"I'll go get the rest of your stuff," Dad said, setting my bags down on the criminally small bed and leaving the room.

` "The second the door shut behind him, Blaine and I became attached at the mouth.

"It's gonna be so lonely…without you in the house," Blaine gasped between kisses.

"I'm sure you'll survive," I panted.

He whimpered in response, clutching me closer. I could feel a mixture of relief and sadness radiating from him and I kissed him deeper, letting our tongues thrust together as moans escaped both of our mouths.

We broke apart quickly as we heard my dad's heavy footsteps coming down the hall, straightening our clothes so we looked presentable in time for him to shoulder the door open, towing the last of my luggage. He didn't even bother heaving it onto the bed, plunking it down on the floor unceremoniously. As soon as he caught his breath again, it was time for goodbyes.

"We're gonna miss you, kiddo," Dad said warmly as he enveloped me in a bear hug. "But I think this transfer is good for you, you know?"

"Yeah Dad," I said with a tight smile as I pulled away; leaving Glee Club, and my newly formed family – including Blaine – didn't exactly seem good to me. "I love you."

"Call me after school tomorrow and let me know how your first day went, okay?" he said, clapping me on the shoulder. I nodded and turned to Blaine.

Blaine buried his face in my shoulder as I took him into my arms, gripping me tightly. I breathed deeply, taking in his scent and trying to avoid brushing my cheek against the curls he'd now taken to plastering down with gel. He smelled like home.

"Be safe, okay?" I whispered. "Stay out of trouble."

"I will, I will," he grumbled. I laughed and pulled back to look at him, reaching up to stroke his clean-shaven cheek. Boldly, Blaine pecked my lips in a chaste farewell.

When they left, the room seemed far too empty, despite the furniture tightly packed in the small space. I sighed heavily, actually able to feel my father and Blaine driving away as our Connection slowly faded with the distance.

Willing the tears of loneliness not to fill my eyes, I turned to the bed and began the long process of unpacking.

**~.~.~.~**

**REVIEW = PREVIEW (later)**

** I hate to leave you all hanging on that sad note. See you in a couple of weeks!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: I'm so sorry it took me so long to update! I know I said two weeks and it's been like four, but after New Mexico we went up north Michigan _the next day _and there was no internet there either. Anyway, here's the chapter, the next one will be posted very soon! Only two chapters left, then an epilogue…then the week after that I'm gonna start posting Blaine's point of view of the whole story :)**

**~.~.~.~**

Dalton was okay, I supposed. I never got shoved into lockers or had slushies tossed in my face and I was academically _challenged _for once, which was nice, but I missed my friends and family. People at Dalton would approach me, say hello and welcome me to the school, but I could tell that I would never make friends here as close as Rachel or Mercedes.

Blaine and I got coffee together everyday after school, texted between and during classes, and talked on the phone for hours each night. I would just leave it on speakerphone and set it on the mattress, chatting aimlessly as we did our homework (which I now had heaps of). Sometimes there were long stretches where we didn't say anything, just listened to the sound of the other breathing. During these times it was easy to pretend that we were just sitting next to each other, if not for the crackling of the phone speakers.

The first weekend took forever to arrive, and when it did I was back at my house as soon as the speed limits would allow. I spent Friday night and most of Saturday there (including a very heated, very long, much-needed make out session with Blaine), then went to Rachel's house and had a sleepover with her and Mercedes that night.

Rachel had made Cedes and I swear not to talk about Glee Club the moment we stepped in the door, just in case I was spying.

"I haven't even auditioned for the Warblers yet!" I reminded her. "I've only been there a week, I've already got enough on my plate."

"Can't be too careful," she sing-songed. I rolled my eyes.

As much fun as that night was, seeing my friends again, I missed Blaine enough that I even stayed at my house Sunday night, deciding to get up at four to get ready and drive to Westerville. We slept tangled up in Blaine's bed - something I could tell both of us had missed more than anything. It was a long time before we actually fell asleep, though, taking advantage of the sleeping house and kissing gently. Blaine drifted off whilst I was sucking a hickey on his neck, deflating with a happy sigh, and I soon joined him.

~.~.~.~

_I was walking down the hallways of McKinley, hand in hand with Blaine. The hall seemed endless, but there were no doors to classrooms, just rows and rows of infinite lockers. The place was empty except for us, but after a moment I could hear heavy footsteps gathering speed behind us._

_ Blaine and I whipped around to see Karofsky pursuing us, his eyes filled with hate and his fists clenched at his side._

_ We broke into a run and he took off after us. I kept a death grip on Blaine's hand, not wanting to be separated as the lockers blurred past us._

_ Out of nowhere a door appeared on the right side of the hall – it didn't look like a normal McKinley classroom door, though. It was made of handsome oak, dark and polished like the doors at Dalton._

_ Blaine pulled me towards it, wrenching it open to reveal a room that was in far worse shape than the door. It was some kind of closet, with only a few square feet of space, not big enough for more than one person to squeeze into._

_ Karofsky was still thundering after us, and without warning Blaine shoved me through the door and yanked his hand from mine. I tried reaching for him but he shut the door quickly, locking it from the outside._

_ That left Blaine alone in the hall with an angry Karofsky, and all I could do was listen to their footsteps, helpless in protecting Blaine from the jock._

_ And suddenly the footsteps stopped. I heard the muffled sound of someone hitting the floor, followed by a yelp of pain that sounded like Blaine's and a sharp pain in my side._

_ "No!" I cried, but I couldn't hear my own voice. I tried to shove my way through the locked door, to no avail, and I could feel the shadows of the punches and kicks Blaine was receiving._

_ I felt like I was being stifled in the pitch-black, small room, helpless, confused, and so, so alone as my soul mate took the blows meant for me._

~.~.~.~

I awoke much the same way as I did from the last nightmare, gasping and sweating and shaking, but this time I was clutching at Blaine. I buried my face in his neck and tried to calm myself down, willing my breathing and racing heart to slow.

Blaine had awoken too, though for some reason he seemed far more serene than me. He held me tightly and rubbed my back, kissing my hair.

"It's okay," he murmured. "We're fine. Nothing's gonna hurt us."

Blaine's heartbeat eventually relaxed me, and I couldn't help but wonder why this nightmare hadn't affected him as much as the last one had – both involved him getting beaten mercilessly.

But I had a more important question on my mind.

"Blaine, are you safe at McKinley?"

Blaine didn't answer for a moment, and at his hesitation I pulled back to look him in the eye. He looked slightly worried, his golden eyes shining in the dark, almost pleading with me.

"I…I'm not getting hurt," he said evasively.

"There's something you're not telling me," I said sternly. "Spill."

Blaine took a deep breath, my anxiety building.

"Karofsky's been harassing me a bit – nothing worse than names, but I think…I think he knows we're Connected."

This was exactly what I'd been dreading. If Karofsky knew Blaine was my soul mate, he was also aware that he had direct contact to one of the single most precious things in my life. If he felt like it, he could use Blaine to manipulate me anytime he wanted.

But worst of all, it meant Blaine was his new target.

"Please don't freak out…" Blaine said steadily, obviously sensing my mounting panic. "He's not even shoving me into lockers, Kurt – honestly I think he's just scared-"

"Oh yeah, because threatening to kill someone is obviously a sign of a traumatized child, not a psychopathic murderer," I said somewhat hysterically.

I realized I'd raised my voice, enough that in the following silence I heard Finn stir in the next room over.

I sat up, feeling too tightly wound to stay laying down, and Blaine followed suit.

"I don't think he actually meant to follow up on that threat," Blaine said. "He was probably just desperate because he didn't want his big secret getting out. Maybe his parents are homophobic and he doesn't want them knowing."

"Yes, but you don't threaten to end another person's life, even in that kind of situation, it's just crazy and stupid," I said in a more hushed tone.

Something about this statement struck a chord for Blaine, because his face became a mask of hurt and then he turned away, refusing to look at me. I stared at him, shocked.

"Blaine?" I said gently. I put my hand on his face and waited, stroking the stubble-covered skin on his jaw.

I could just barely see his Adam's apple bobbing in the darkness as he gulped, and when he looked back at me there was a tear glimmering faintly in the corner of his eye. Tears never actually fell from Blaine's eyes, always getting caught in his eyelashes before they had a chance.

"Did it occur to you," he began shakily, "that there was a point in my life where I was almost exactly like Karofsky?"

It took me a moment to process Blaine's question, but as soon as I did my insides flooded with guilt. I had just called Blaine crazy and stupid.

"Oh god, Blaine, I'm so sorry," I said quickly, feeling like a horrible person for not seeing why he was defending Karofsky so determinedly. "I didn't…I don't think you would threaten to kill someone, though."

"I might've," Blaine choked out, looking almost scared. "I mean, I definitely wouldn't have killed anyone, but…I was desperate too. I knew if my dad found out that would be the end of it, and if someone had the power to destroy my home life like that…I probably would've wanted to make sure that they wouldn't want to."

And then I sensed Blaine feeling an emotion that I knew he'd felt several times before, but never to this extent: self-hatred.

"Oh honey," I murmured, taking him into my arms. He leaned heavily into me.

"I can't pretend to know how it feels to be in a situation like that," I said after a few moments of silence, carefully considering my words. "But…if you say that Karofsky doesn't actually intend to hurt you, then I trust your judgment."

Blaine looked up at me with a rather watery smile on his face.

"Thanks Kurt," he whispered.

"Thank _you. _But you have to promise me you'll let me know if he ever lays a _finger _on you, got it?"

"Deal."

~.~.~.~

I tried not to worry about Blaine too much, constantly having to remind myself that he could take care of himself. I probably wouldn't have been as concerned if our Connection hadn't dwindled with the distance – I could still feel it if he were in severe pain or great distress, but otherwise I could only detect a faint murmur of his feelings.

There was certainly enough schoolwork to keep my mind off things. Dalton was a college prep school, which for me meant that the classes were actually challenging for a change. That and my upcoming audition for the Warblers kept me occupied, though I had a feeling it would be fairly easy to get in; they were desperate for someone with my rare vocal range.

With some help from Rachel, I had decided to sing "Don't Cry for Me Argentina" for my audition. So there I was, standing in a room full of Warbler members and singing the well-rehearsed opening lines of the Broadway classic, when everything pretty much fell apart.

First I felt Blaine's panic, something I had grown accustomed to feeling since we Connected thanks to his miserable excuse for a father. But then the real terror began.

I was completely shut off. For the first time, even through our fights and bouts of not speaking, Blaine had entirely closed the Connection between us. It created a hole inside me, like something vital had been ripped out but I was forced to live through it, and my brain felt utterly _empty. _I never realized how truly alone my own head had felt before I met Blaine, but the feeling was so overwhelming that I didn't even notice I had stopped singing.

I tried to mentally pry the Connection back open, but I couldn't even find it within myself, and tears began spilling hotly down my cheeks. I choked out quick, heavy sobs, sinking to my knees as I tried to get Connected to my soul mate again.

From the dregs of my panicked mind, I summoned a memory from years ago – it was my father explaining to me what it felt like when your soul mate died, and he had described it _exactly like this._

The last thought in my mind before everything went black was that I loved Blaine painfully, and that I wouldn't last long without him.

**~.~.~.~**

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** Sorry for the cliffhanger…not really, cliffhangers are really fun :) sorry for not being sorry, lovely readers!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: Sorry it's so short! Just one more chapter after this, then the epilogue!**

**~.~.~.~**

Most of the time when people wake up after a traumatic experience, it takes the body a few moments to recall exactly what happened.

That wasn't the case for me.

The second I awoke, before I even opened my eyes, I remembered the horrifying emptiness in my mind, mostly because it was still there. I still couldn't feel my Blaine attached to me, still didn't know if his heart was beating or bleeding.

My eyes flew open, met with a blinding white light that involuntarily caused them to shut again. I became aware that I had a splitting headache, as well as the sound of machines whirring quietly. Somewhere to my right came a noise like sheets rustling and I tried opening my eyes again, squinting.

I was in a hospital, though I probably should've guessed that earlier from the disinfectant smell. I instantly glanced around the room, searching, and I found what I was looking for in the bed next to mine.

_"Blaine,"_ I sobbed dryly.

I had seen Blaine in bad shape before, but never like this. There was a bandage wrapped around his head, slightly overhung by his curls, and he had a nasty black eye that was swollen shut. The other eye had a dark circle under it and his nose was taped. His bottom lip was split and his right arm was in a sling, three of the fingers on his other hand taped together in a splint.

I shot out of bed, ignoring the way my head throbbed painfully at the sudden movement. I realized I was still in my Dalton uniform, not attached to any IVs like Blaine was.

I stopped at Blaine's bedside, touching his face as gently as I could and placing several kisses to his curls simply because he was _alive._ My Blaine was still here with me, and I wouldn't have to make the deathly decision of pushing on without him or leaving everyone else I loved.

Because _god _I loved Blaine. It was something I couldn't ignore anymore.

Blaine began to stir, his good eye blinking open slowly. It fell on me and he took a shuddering breath.

"Kurt," he whispered, voice raspy. It was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard.

"Blaine – what happened, are you okay?" I said in a frantic rush. "Why can't I feel our Connection? Did Karofsky hurt you? Oh god Blaine, I'm so sorry-"

"Hey," he said quietly. "It's okay, I closed our Connection. I didn't want you to feel how much that hurt."

"Open it. Now," I deadpanned.

"Kurt, I'm still in pain-"

"Damn it Blaine, my head's too fucking empty without you, _open it."_

Blaine seemed to comply out of shock more than anything - I was pretty sure that was the first time he'd ever heard me swear more than once in a sentence. I sighed with relief as his presence flooded back into me, completing me.

"Thank you," I said, far more calmly. "Now tell me exactly what happened, no skimping on any details."

Blaine took a deep breath and began his tale.

"Karofsky's harassment has been getting worse since I talked to you," he muttered. My hands clenched into fists. "Wait, let me tell the whole story before you get mad, okay? It's kind of my fault this happened actually.

"I decided to go talk to him, just to let him know that I wasn't gonna spill his secret so he'd lay off. I caught him alone on his way to football practice after school and I…I think he sort of thought I was taunting him or something."

I listened intently, trying not to get angry at the brute that had hurt my boyfriend, but it was difficult when Blaine had to keep taking shaky breaths in the middle of sentences or when he looked at me with his one good eye. I found myself hating Karofsky almost as much as Blaine's father.

"I guess he figured I was threatening to out him, because of the way I said it, and he looked really scared. Then after a few seconds he just started hitting me," Blaine continued. "I could tell he was desperate – you should've seen him Kurt, really, he was crying – so I…I didn't fight back."

"You _what?" _I practically shrieked, making Blaine jump then wince.

"Do you think I'd look half as bad if I actually tried to hold him off?" Blaine laughed, showing a flicker of his old self. "I could kick that guy's ass."

"Then why on Earth didn't you?"

"Because he's just like I was," he reminded me. "He's confused, Kurt – I know he's done a lot of horrible things to both of us, and I hate him for hurting you, but I can also sympathize with what he's going through."

"So you let him beat the crap out of you?"

"I'm still on probation from juvie. Even defending myself is taking the risk of being thrown back in there. And besides, you told me not to fight him when he was shoving you into lockers."

I stared at him, shocked he remembered that.

"Honey," I said slowly, "I'm very touched that you kept your promise to me in a situation like that, but as soon as you get off probation, if _anyone _lays a finger on you, kick their ass for me."

Blaine grinned and nodded fervently.

I smiled affectionately and gently kissed his bruised cheek.

"Oh good, you boys are awake!"

We looked up to see my dad shouldering his way into the room, carrying a teetering tray of food. He looked far too chipper for the situation.

"Did you guys hear the good news?" he asked, setting the food down on the table and beginning to unwrap a sandwich. When he saw our blank expressions he elaborated, "Karofsky got expelled for beating the crap out of Blaine!"

My eyes widened in shock, Blaine and I glancing at each other.

"And Blaine, the doctor says you're gonna be fine in a couple weeks – your right shoulder was dislocated, you broke a few fingers on your left hand as well as your nose, and suffered a minor head injury, but no brain damage. You're gonna be sore for a while, but they're letting you out tomorrow after the police debrief you."

It all felt too good to be true – Blaine would be all right, Karofsky was expelled, and thus I could go back to McKinley, and Blaine wasn't getting put in a juvenile detention center as a result.

"Why did I lose consciousness?" I asked, not yet willing to believe that all the loose ends were tied up. I could tell Blaine wasn't either.

"Blaine must've gotten knocked out," Dad explained, looking to Blaine for affirmation.

"Yeah, he hit my head against the wall," Blaine muttered, looking sheepishly at me. For the first time in a while I felt the instinctive protectiveness set in.

"That could've killed you," I said through gritted teeth. "And you _sympathize _with him?" Blaine averted his eyes.

"Connections can be funny like that," Dad said.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door, light and nervous-sounding. Dad set down his sandwich and opened it, looking confusedly at someone I couldn't see from this angle.

"May I help you?" my dad said.

"Hi, I'm looking for Blaine Anderson?" said a woman's voice, just as timid as the knock.

I felt Blaine stiffen, his eyes blowing wide and a million emotions coursing through him.

Dad let the woman in, and as soon as she came into view, I knew who she was.

"Mom?" Blaine croaked.

**~.~.~.~**

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	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: Oh dear, it's almost over! So sorry this took so long, I actually intended to write this on Sunday, but decided to check Tumblr first. Big mistake, because then I started ugly sobbing at the sight of the break up spoilers and couldn't even think about Klaine without crying for the next few days :'(**

**~.~.~.~**

The woman looked to be in her forties, with a thin, tan face and delicate features. Her dark hair was pulled back into a bun, a few curly strands hanging loose. She wore a prim skirted suit, giving her the appearance of a high-end businesswoman. What really struck me, though, were her eyes. They were almost the exact same shade as Blaine's, though with a bit more green than his and not quite as beautiful.

The flood of emotions Blaine was feeling – confusion, nostalgia, longing, but mostly just a whole lot of heartbreak - overwhelmed me.

"Hi, honey," Ms. Anderson said quietly, clutching her handbag tight.

There was a long, awkward silence that followed this greeting, the woman shifting twitchily under the appalled look her son was giving her.

"You've, uh, gotten so big," Blaine's mother stammered, seeming lost for what else to say. She took a seat in the chair on the opposite side of the bed from me.

"What are you doing here?" Blaine asked, ignoring her. I almost missed the slight tremor in his voice.

"I'm still on your emergency contact list," she explained. "They called me as soon as you were checked in. I got here as quickly as I could, but I live in Columbus now."

She glanced around the room to avoid Blaine's penetrating gaze, her eyes settling on me.

"Who are you?" she asked, not unkindly.

I shot a glance at Blaine, silently asking if we were going to lie or not.

"Mom, this is Kurt," he said calmly, gingerly taking my hand in his injured one. "He's my soul mate."

This seemed to come as quite a shock for Ms. Anderson, who's eyes got almost as big as Ms. Pillsbury's. Her eyebrows shot up and her mouth fell open, her eyes darting between Blaine and I. I could feel Blaine getting more hurt and angry with each passing second.

"If you're not okay with that, feel free to leave _now," _he said sharply, making her jump.

"I'll second that," my dad said from his position near the door. I'd almost forgotten he was there, but he looked as irked as I felt. "I don't want another homophobe near any members of my family."

"N-no," Ms. Anderson said hastily, before I had a chance to react to my dad calling Blaine family. "I…it's just a bit surprising, that's all." She smiled somewhat warmly at me, and I honestly wanted to believe that Blaine had at least one kindhearted parent, but there was just something about this woman that made me wary. Perhaps it was the fact that she'd abandoned Blaine at age seven and hadn't made any attempt to contact him since.

Awkward silence fell again, Blaine's mom once more floundering for things to say.

"Where's you're father?" she eventually settled on asking, which was probably the worst possible thing she could've done.

Blaine took a long, deep breath, turning to me.

"Could you excuse us for a few minutes?" he asked me.

As much as I hated the idea of leaving Blaine alone with someone that had hurt him so much, especially after the events of earlier that day, I trusted his judgment.

I nodded and stood, touching his shoulder lightly before making my way around the bed to the door. I noticed my father wasn't following me and when I looked back, his arms were folded and he was eyeing Blaine's mother in disdain.

"Dad, come on," I muttered.

"How do I know she's not just as bad as his father?" he asked loudly, not looking away from a shocked Ms. Anderson. "Just because she's not homophobic doesn't mean she's got Blaine's best interest at heart."

"He'll be fine, Dad," I said pointedly. "Trust me. Just let them be."

He stood frozen for a few moments, then followed me out into the hall.

~.~.~.~

"I don't like this one bit," Dad said after we'd been standing out in the hall for about a minute. "Doesn't something about this strike you as odd? I thought Blaine's mom left when he was a baby."

"He was seven," I corrected, biting my nails, which I _never _did.

"How's he holding up?"

"He's alright. Nothing he can't handle."

Dad sighed heavily. "That kid's stronger than he gives himself credit for. I just hope his _mom _realizes how much she hurt her son."

He spat the word "mom", clearly not considering someone that hadn't spoken to her child in ten years a mother. I hummed in agreement, focusing on the emotions running rampant from Blaine to me.

I couldn't stop thinking about that haunting feeling of emptiness that had consumed me when Blaine shut our Connection. It was hard to believe that I had once functioned like that everyday, without someone else's constant presence in my mind to keep me going. Now I valued every ghost of emotion I felt emitting from Blaine, every shared feeling and tendril of essence Connecting us, the way we were meant to be.

"How did you stand it before you found Carole?" I asked my dad suddenly, unable to hold it in any longer. "How did you cope with that…that _nothingness…_"

I hadn't realized I was crying, but my voice was too choked up for it to go unnoticed.

I could feel Dad staring at me in shock, but I couldn't look at him. Instead I kept my eyes trained on my Dalton-issue dress shoes.

"It wasn't easy, let me tell you that," he said eventually, voice gentle. "Felt like I was…drowning in loneliness at first. But eventually things get easier, and when I met Carole I could feel her there. Not as much as I could feel Lizzie, but it was definitely better than before."

I took a deep, shaky breath, trying to imagine it. I supposed as time passed, I would grow accustomed to not being Connected like I was before I met Blaine, but never seeing Blaine again was a crushing prospect. He was so much a part of my life now, interwoven with every aspect, that if he were suddenly ripped from it I would crumble. I was sure I would pull through – many people who lost their soul mates were able to move on and lead happy lives – but I knew it would take me a very long time to rebuild my life, and I was certain I would never completely recover from losing someone so precious to me.

"It just sickens me, you know?" Dad said suddenly after a minute of anxious silence. "I mean, this woman left her son without a backwards glance, and suddenly she hears he's in the hospital, takes her sweet time getting over here, and thinks she has the right to just come in and meddle with Blaine's life again?"

"Takes her sweet time?" I repeated skeptically.

"Columbus is two hours away – you kids have been out for three and a half," he said bitterly. "Probably wanted to finish up her damn business meeting because it was more important than her hospitalized son."

Somehow it didn't surprise me. Ms. Anderson struck me as the kind of person who knew more about how her company was run than how a family was.

"I just don't want her hurting him," I whispered. "Clearly she doesn't deem him important enough to fight for his custody, and…I just hate that someone who cares so little about Blaine's feelings has the power to break his heart."

I could feel Dad's searching gaze on me, and then he took me into his arms. I leaned into the hug, breathing in the smell of car oil and home. He didn't say anything, but the embrace was everything I needed.

It was a few minutes before the door to Blaine's room opened, revealing a tearful Ms. Anderson. I pulled away from Dad and we both watched as she carefully closed the door behind her. She looked up suddenly, noticing us staring at her, and twitched her gaze back and forth between us before settling on me.

Her big, watery eyes stared into mine for a long time, seemingly lost for words.

"Take care of him," she muttered eventually, her voice trembling.

"You have my word," I answered confusedly. She nodded, biting her lip, then walked past me, her heels clicking as she went.

"I'll hang back out here, you go in and talk to him," Dad said once she was gone. "Maybe I'll go see if Carole's on her break."

~.~.~.~

Blaine was laying as I'd left him, facing away from me and staring listlessly out the window. I slowly made my way over to his bedside and sat down, patiently taking his hand.

His head finally turned so I could see his face. Unshed tears were welled up in his eyes, but he wasn't full-on crying.

"She wanted me to come live with her," he mumbled, gaze fixated on our hands. "I haven't seen her since I was seven, and she wants me to come _live _wither, just like that…she's remarried now, too. Connected with some schmuck at the produce market."

My eyes widened in shock.

"Your parents were never Connected?" I asked gently. Blaine shook his head.

"News to me, too," he muttered shakily.

We were silent for a long time, my thumb automatically brushing over Blaine's knuckles repeatedly in an attempt to comfort him. He took a deep, trembling sigh.

"How could she just leave me with him?" he asked quietly, voice cracking on the word "leave". "Didn't she love me at all? Didn't she want to see me?"

Blaine's words effectively broke my heart, tugging me to my feet so I could gingerly wrap my arms around him, mindful of his injuries. He turned and buried his face in my neck, sniffling. I held him in the most loving way I knew how, trying to convey that while his mother didn't care how her actions affected him, I cared intensely.

"I don't know the answer to that, Blaine," I murmured, kissing his hair. "I just…don't think she really sees how much you're worth fighting for."

I could feel hot, wet tears on my neck and clutched him tighter, wishing it was possible to kiss someone's hurt away. There were very few things I wouldn't give to make sure Blaine never had to feel this way again.

"I just want to go home," he whispered brokenly.

I bit my lip to stop a sob from escaping my throat.

"Where's home, Blaine?" I managed to ask.

"In Lima, with you and our family."

That one sentence brought so much indescribable joy to me. To have Blaine refer to himself as part of our family really showed me how far we'd come from ignoring and snapping at each other when we'd first Connected. He was no longer that boy I detested, the one who had walls built around his heart to keep from getting hurt even more than he already was, who trusted no one, and who was taught everyday that love would only result in heartbreak. A smile split across my face.

"I think I might still love her…a little," Blaine continued. "But it doesn't matter, because…"

He hesitated, pulling back so he could look me in the eye. I saw and felt his nervousness, his beautiful eyes wide and full of sincerity.

"It doesn't matter, because I _know _I love you," he murmured.

I had to close my eyes and compose myself for a moment before I was able to answer.

"I love you too," I choked out. "I love you so much Blaine, so much-"

Blaine cut me off with a kiss – a warm, soft, passionate kiss that was slow but intense. Both of our spirits were soaring despite all the shit that had happened today, proving exactly what we had been taught as kids – that love conquers all.

So much had happened since Blaine and I had met, and while a lot of it had been rather horrible, so much of it had been amazing beyond compare. There would certainly be more obstacles along the road, and it would take time and love for Blaine to be completely okay after what had happened, but we had no shortage of either of those things. No matter what hit us, we would come out stronger on the other side.

**~.~.~.~**

**REVIEW = PREVIEW**

** Just the epilogue left, you guys!**

** Also, a couple of my friends started a YouTube channel of them singing and playing covers of songs, and they're really good! Please check them out, it would mean a lot to me :) Just add /user/JennaAndMickey to the end of the YouTube url.**

** P.S. I filmed their music video for Be Okay and that's my ukulele Mickey is playing!**


	16. Epilogue

**Author's Note: Yes, I changed the title of the story, because the long title was just sort of bugging me and this way it'll be more uniform to the title of Blaine's point of view. By the way, I've decided to call this the Connections 'verse.**

**~.Seven Months Later.~**

Blaine and I stood in the doorway of my bedroom, just staring at the bed, the sheets of which I had very primly made this morning. The sheets were stark white, untouched, but we both knew it wouldn't stay that way for long.

The silence filling the house was deafening, the only audible sounds being our breathing and the pounding of my own heart in my ears. No one was here but us – it was the beginning of summer and Burt and Carole were finally going on their honeymoon while Finn attended the annual week-long Glee guys' Halo tournament over at Puckerman's. We were alone.

This had been thoroughly discussed between the two of us; we had decided to take advantage of it.

I had initially thought this was going to be a simple step to take – sexual things had always seemed really daunting to me, but this was _Blaine, _and I knew that if anything went wrong he would be nothing short of a complete gentleman about it. However, my nerves had been mounting all day, especially after Blaine informed me that sex between two soul mates was far different than it was between two unConnected people.

With that knowledge in mind, this seemed like a very big step indeed. Luckily, I could feel Blaine's nervousness just as strongly as I could my own.

At the same time, Blaine and I turned our gazes away from the bed to meet each other's eyes. I found solace in his golden irises, relief and reassurance, giving me the strength I needed. A small smile tugged at his lips, and I could tell he felt the same.

"Okay," Blaine whispered. "I, uh…guess it's time."

I licked my lips nervously, then leaned in to capture his full lips in mine. The kiss was soft and slow and loving, Blaine being so gentle with me even in this small action that my fears slowly melted away.

Our arms wound around each other, holding our bodies close, and a rush of desire shot through me as I realized how incredibly _close _we would soon be. I wasn't sure how far we were going to go tonight – knowing me, not very far – but I was positive it would be amazing, like everything else we'd done like this.

We made our way to the bed and out of our shirts, something we were both very familiar with and skilled at, soaking up each other's pleasure and reveling in it.

I was straddling Blaine, letting my mouth meander down his jaw and neck. I could tell he was arching up into it, his hot flesh pressing insistently against my lips and teeth as our movement slowly began to escalate.

"Are – god, _Kurt _– are you ready?" Blaine gasped as I sucked on a sensitive spot by his collarbone. One of his hands was wrapped around me while the other knotted in the short hair on the back of my neck.

I pulled away from his neck with a soft, wet sound.

"Yeah," I panted. "Are you?"

Blaine nodded, his eyes squeezed shut, and we prepared ourselves for taking our relationship to a level almost more drastic than having actual sex.

Gradually, Blaine and I both began opening our Connection further than we ever had.

It was like my mind was a bucket filled with liquid thoughts and feelings, and now Blaine's were being poured into it as well. Our emotions mixed and muddled, feeling so much _more _of each other than we were used to.

It wasn't even opened as far as it could go yet, but already the sensation was overwhelming. It was all _Blaine – _he took up my entire awareness, leaving me barely enough conscious thought to keep opening our Connection until it was stretched as far as we had the mental strength to make it.

Never before had a Connection seemed like a living thing to me, but I could actually feel it humming between us, making Blaine and I almost one thing.

Previously I had thought opening our Connection all the way would be something we could do whilst continuing our make-out session, but what I hadn't anticipated was it rendering both of us completely incapacitated as we drowned in this new sensation. I actually collapsed onto Blaine's chest, my eyes slipping shut because I just didn't have the mental capacity to keep them open anymore and my mouth falling open. I could hear Blaine's hammering heart just under my ear, in perfect sync with mine, as was our heavy breathing.

Soul mates were supposedly two bodies that each housed one half of the same soul, and I could really feel it now. It did indeed feel as if our torn soul was almost completely mended now, and I knew the feeling would only increase as we continued the escapade we had planned for tonight.

"K-Kurt," Blaine stammered, and I clutched him close to me. It felt wrong to have so much between us physically, when mentally I could feel every little thing he was as if his thoughts were my own. I couldn't hear words or anything, but I could feel the tone of every thought that passed through Blaine's mind.

"You have a beautiful mind," Blaine whispered shakily, and I blushed, because I knew he meant it. I could feel the reverence behind the statement, but there was something else there too.

It was as if every feeling Blaine had was just a small object floating in a sea of one very dominant emotion – love. I was drowning in it, both his and mine, because we loved each other so much in that moment. We were truly exposing ourselves to one another, letting our soul mate delve in our deepest secrets and fears and desires, a truly terrifying concept if it hadn't been the one person we truly trusted that we were letting in.

That was why this was such a significant step, because sex was about exposing your body, while this was exposing your mind. It was something generally done the first time soul mates had sex, and I soon discovered the reason for that.

I felt my erection straining against my jeans.

"Oh," I gasped. We had never gotten aroused like this in front of each other before, because we were both able to tell when the other was on the brink and needed to stop. But apparently the sensation of having Blaine's mind flood into mine was so incredible that it had made me turned on without even realizing it.

I looked down and saw that Blaine had grown fully hard as well, the sight of his length outlined against his floods making my own cock throb.

I quickly brought my eyes back up to meet Blaine's, both of us red in the face. His pupils were blown wide, but it was impossible to miss the adoration in his expression.

At the same time we lunged forward and locked our lips together, both of us needed each other _now._ Our hands roamed and grasped and clutched as the otherwise silent house filled with the sounds of panting and moaning. We each felt our own arousal as well as our soul mate's, making every touch seem more intense than it actually was.

I was overcome with an urge to give everything to Blaine – to make myself vulnerable and let him take what he wanted, but at the same time I wanted to take _him. _I wanted to know he was mine, and that no one else would ever get to do the things I would do to him. I wanted to know every little thing about him – what places inside him made him scream, how to make him fall apart, the tricks to reducing him to incoherent moans and primal instincts.

My hips ground down hard onto Blaine's, sliding our clothed lengths against each other and drawing out a long whine from Blaine, which was by far the most glorious thing I'd ever heard. The feeling of his pulsing erection against mine made me see stars behind the lids of my closed eyes.

Blaine began bucking his hips up as well, meeting mine as we thrust together, getting into a rhythm. I had never felt anything so satisfying, so indescribably thrilling, but I wanted _more. _We both did. And now that we had started, there was no way we were going to be able to stop.

Blaine was the first one of us to have the mind to start removing my pants, his hips humping up into nothing as he pushed me away slightly to get them off. His hands were shaking, not with nervousness, but with impatience.

As he began working at my belt, I realized the magnitude of the situation.

"Blaine," I panted. "Honey, slow down."

I took his wrists in my hand, using the other to support myself as I hovered over him. Blaine's eyes darted up to meet mine, some of the franticness vanishing. I felt him worry, and I had to catch my breath before I could speak coherently.

"I know you're excited," I said gently. "I am too, but I don't want to rush this. I want to make love, not just have sex."

Blaine took a deep breath, closing his eyes. When he opened them they were much softer, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Sorry," he half-laughed. "You just…kind of made my brain go fuzzy."

I laughed at that too, understanding completely. Blaine tugged his hands out of my grip so he could prop himself up on his elbows and give me a tender kiss on the lips.

"Okay," he whispered against them. "Let's do this right."

I nodded. Blaine reached up one hand to latch it behind my neck, connecting our lips again and kissing me soft and slow. He gradually brought me back down so I was laying on him again, our lips sliding together and our tongues licking at each other's mouths. I let my hands wander up Blaine's chest, brushing lightly like I did when we were just making out, eliciting a shiver as I ghosted over his nipple.

Blaine's big, warm hands skated down my stomach, fumbling with the buckle of my belt again. I nodded and he started taking off my jeans again, tentatively sliding them off. I kicked them away from my ankles and aside, trying not to think about the fact that this was the first time Blaine had seen me in my underwear as I reached down and unbuttoned his floods.

Once we were both in our bower-briefs, my cock twitching at the thought of Blaine nearly naked below me, Blaine and I stopped kissing and glanced up at each other. There was no nervousness in Blaine's eyes, only love, and I realized that this wasn't really that big of a step for us. We already knew virtually everything about each other, had seen each other in our most vulnerable states, and had stuck together and grown closer through it all. This time we would both be vulnerable, in uncharted territory, but it didn't really matter that much if you really thought about it. There was no possible way to screw up what we had at this point.

I hooked my finger in the waistband of Blaine's boxer-briefs, biting my lip as I silently asked for permission. Blaine nodded and I tugged the fabric down over his erection, focusing my gaze entirely on Blaine's face as the clothing was cast away.

Blaine's breathing sped up, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

"You can look," he said quietly.

I held his gaze for a moment longer, then glanced down.

Of the few pornos I had watched, the element of them that seemed the most unrealistic to me was the worship they held for one another's cocks. It seemed very stupid to think of them that way.

That was before I saw Blaine's.

I supposed I should've guessed, because everything about him was so damn perfect, why not this? It was slightly shorter than mine but thicker, standing straight and dripping with pre-come, looking so silky soft and enticing. It ignited so many urges within me that I didn't even know I had before, made me want to do things to him that would otherwise seem so animalistic and filthy-minded, but all I felt was pure love.

Blaine's cock twitched under my stare and I realized how long I'd been looking at it, making me blush as I brought my eyes back up to Blaine, who was also red in the face.

He took off the last bit of clothing I was wearing, fumbling slightly. He looked to me for permission before letting his eyes wander to my erection.

I watched his face as he stared at me, interested to know if he was having a reaction similar to mine. I could feel his reverence and arousal, his mouth falling open slightly, and I suddenly thought about what it would be like to have his perfectly plump lips wrapped around me. My cock twitched at the thought and I heard a small intake of breath from Blaine.

When he finally looked up at me, there was a small smile on his lips.

"You're beautiful," he said with certainty, leaning in and kissing me slowly but intensely. I melted into it, letting my body settle on top of Blaine's without thinking.

Both of us gasped as our cocks slotted together. I squeezed my eyes shut, Blaine's throbbing erection pressed to mine, both of us slick and painfully hard. Jolts of pleasure zapped through me, making my hips buck forward automatically. Blaine moaned and his head fell back against the pillows, our breathing shaky.

"I – I h-hope you don't expect me to last long," Blaine panted. I shook my head, unable to form the words to tell him I wouldn't last long either.

I knew that if we wanted to do anything more than rut we had better do it soon, before one of us lost control, but there was still something I was yearning to do before we completely lost ourselves.

Pulling away from Blaine's mouth with a wet sound, I moved down his body, planting little kisses along his jaw, neck, collarbone, chest, and stomach. His muscles were taut under my lips, goosebumps scattering the areas I touched.

I stopped when I reached his pelvis, purposefully avoiding his cock, however enticing it might look. Blaine's smell, my favorite smell in the world next to my mother's perfume, was incredibly concentrated here. It was masculine, almost spicy and very warm. I started kissing the skin where his hips and thigh met, letting my tongue dart out to taste him, dragging it across the hot flesh.

Blaine let out a shaky moan as my mouth drew closer to the base of his cock, his dense pubic hair tickling my lips and his hands . After a moment's debate, I pulled away only to trail my tongue lightly up his length.

Blaine keened loudly, his hands moving from the sheets to grip my hair tightly. When I looked up his face was screwed up in pleasure, his thrill shocking my own nerves.

"Kurt, _please,"_ he begged breathlessly. "Please, I need you, _now."_

I placed a ghost of a kiss on the head of his cock, feeling bold because I could feel _exactly _the effect I was having on Blaine, then moved up the bed so I could grab the lube and condoms out of the nightstand.

We had discussed the positioning as well. Blaine had wanted it a certain way and I had no preference as to whether I was top or bottom, so we were going to do it how he wanted.

I pecked Blaine on the lips, reveling in the feeling of his arousal and love coursing through my own body. It really was the most intimate way to use our Connection.

"Are you ready?" I asked him quietly. He nodded eyes closed and panting, and I dropped another kiss to his forehead before I leaned back and began lubing my fingers up.

The cool liquid dripped onto the sheets, but the state of my Egyptian cotton comforter was the least of my worries at the moment. I was so afraid I would hurt him, but then I reminded myself that if Blaine were in even the least bit of pain I would feel it too.

I looked up after putting the bottle of lube back on the nightstand to see Blaine had spread his legs wide, his puckered hole in full view. He looked so beautiful, just laid out naked and sweating in front of me, waiting for me to pleasure him, that I felt a knot forming in my throat because this amazing human being was _my soul mate._

"Kurt?" Blaine prompted, looking at me quizzically.

"I'm just…really lucky," I murmured. He smiled at me dazzlingly.

I decided I had better start stretching him out before any more lube dripped onto the blankets. I placed my dry hand on his thigh to ground myself as my heart began to race – this was it.

"I love you," I told Blaine.

"I love you too, Kurt," he said with a smile in his voice.

I reached down and gently prodded at the tight, hot ring of muscles there. Blaine's breath caught a bit and I took it as encouragement, slowly pushing my finger in.

I had never fingered myself before, and thus didn't really know what to expect, but it certainly hadn't been this. Feeling Blaine's heat around just that small part of me had my cock throbbing rapidly. I could feel him tensing and relaxing around me, the slick tissue a mesmerizing texture. I could tell he wasn't in very much pain, definitely bearable, and the pleasure he felt from it had us both shivering.

I slid my finger in and out a little bit to experiment, and Blaine lifted his hips off the bed to push himself further onto my hand.

"Ungh, _Kurt," _he moaned, eyes shut tight and mouth hanging open in ecstasy. "More, please more."

I wasn't sure if having this intense of a reaction was normal for only having one finger in, but if it wasn't, Blaine's overreaction would certainly be due to feeling the echo of my pleasure as well.

I slid in another finger and this time both of us felt the pain of the stretch, Blaine hissing and tensing around me.

"Relax, baby," I whispered. "Just relax."

He took a deep breath and I felt his muscles slacken, allowing me more room inside him. My cock twitched at the prospect of having _that _sensitive in such a tight, hot place.

After we first discussed our first time, I had done some reading on how to make the experience more pleasurable for Blaine (the whole process seemed rather painful), and if I remembered correctly, I was supposed to press my fingers towards his front-

_"Ohmygod Kurt! Oh! Right there!" _Blaine shouted, actually _shouted, _writhing on the bed and fisting the sheets, his face screwed up in pleasure and his back arched.

I teased the little nub inside him a bit more, feeling his thrill shoot through me and trembling from the force of it, both of us breathing heavily.

"Oh god, another, please," he begged.

I slid out enough to press one more finger in, going slower this time because I could already feel the burn from stretching him so far. Blaine bit his lip, making a small noise of pain, and I waited for him to relax before pushing in further.

I rubbed his thigh as I waited for him to adjust, feeling his pain fade and watching as his face slowly relaxed again.

"Okay," he said tersely. "Just…move around a bit."

I pumped in and out shallowly, keeping a close eye on Blaine's emotions as arousal slowly overshadowed pain. Soon enough he was bucking up against my hand, trying to push me deeper in.

"You feel so good, Blaine," I said breathlessly.

"I'm ready, Kurt," he insisted. "If you don't do it soon, we won't be able to."

He was close, I realized, recognizing the way his body was tensed like a bow. I pulled out gently and it went slack again, his arched back falling to the mattress as he panted.

I fumbled with the condom wrapper, one of my hands still very slippery with lube, but I thought it would be kind of awkward to ask Blaine for help. He wasn't really in any condition to help with anything, anyway, still trying to come down from his high.

I finally got it open and started worrying about putting it on the right way, trying to remember those stupid demonstrations with cucumbers that Ms. Holiday showed us, my nerves really catching up to me.

I felt a steadying hand on mine and looked up to see Blaine gazing at me dazedly.

"You're so gorgeous," he muttered. "Tonight's going to be incredible no matter what."

I sighed, grateful that my soul mate always knew the right thing to say. He took the condom from my hand and wrapped the other around the base of my cock to steady it, letting his thumb brush ever so lightly against the sensitive skin there.

"Oh," I said breathily, my mouth falling open and my eyes slipping closed. It was such a small gesture, something I did to myself all the time, but it felt so new with Blaine's slightly rougher hand.

He rolled the condom down over my cock, his hands going back to his sides, and I lubed myself up, probably using more lube than strictly necessary. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt Blaine.

With renewed confidence from Blaine's words, I settled between his legs and lined myself up. I placed my hands on his hips to steady myself, letting the head of my cock rest against Blaine's stretched hole. Blaine and I took deep breaths simultaneously, and then very slowly I pushed in.

It was difficult to stop myself from just plunging all the way in immediately, but I could feel the pain Blaine was in. It caused guilt to settle in my stomach, and I was about to pull out despite how phenomenal it felt inside him when Blaine grabbed my hips to stop me.

"Don't," he inhaled sharply. "I can handle it, just give me a minute…"

He took deep breaths as the burn slowly faded and I tried to stay as still as possible. I kissed Blaine's forehead, nose, cheeks, and lips, doing everything I could to help him through it. When the pain was nearly gone, I ever so slowly pushed in further, only about an inch before stopping again.

"You're doing so great, baby," I murmured, kissing his jaw as I moved further in. Blaine groaned in response, gradually lifting his hips to take more of me.

By the time I was buried as far as I could go, I was seeing stars. There was surely no feeling that compared to this, my body shaking almost violently with the effort it took to stay still while Blaine adjusted. I felt him all around me, squeezing hotly, his muscles convulsing around the base of my cock.

"You okay?" I choked out, sweat dripping down my chest already.

"Yeah," Blaine responded in a breathy whisper. "God Kurt, you feel so good…you can move now. Please, please move…"

I began moving my hips back and forth, shallowly at first, and with the first thrust both of us groaned loudly. Blaine's head arched back into the pillows, his mouth open in ecstasy, and I got a (somewhat erratic) rhythm going.

It was like something clicked inside me, a shaky _oh _falling from my lips as I realized that this, _this, _was the single most amazing thing I ever had and ever would experience. This was the one thing I was honestly meant for, what my whole life had been leading up to, because nothing could possibly be better than being Connected to Blaine mentally as well as physically. My heart started pounding furiously, burying my face in Blaine's neck and breathing in the masculine smell concentrated there.

There was so much _pleasure, _almost too much to take, but I wanted _more. _I wanted everything Blaine had to offer, and in return I was giving him everything I had. I was so close already, arousal coiled tight in the pit of my stomach. I vaguely remembered my conversation with Blaine a few days before, when he'd asked me if I knew what happened during climax when two soul mates had sex. I had never heard of the phenomenon that occurred, but now that I knew about it, I was incredibly anxious to actually experience it.

I was so happy we'd decided to fully Connect, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the thrill Blaine was feeling and thus passing unto me. It made me realize that _I _was making him feel that way. _I _was causing him to make those gorgeous little grunts and moans; to cling to me like air was a secondary necessity to my body; to thrash his head around simply because he was falling apart from all the pleasure.

I kissed Blaine fiercely, all slowness forgotten as our mouths slid messily against each other, but it didn't matter because this couldn't be interpreted as anything other than an act of two people who loved each other with everything they had. That was another emotion of Blaine's that was overwhelming – the raw, unconditional adoration he felt for me that I absolutely and wholeheartedly reciprocated.

Blaine's hips were pounding up to meet my thrusts, the sound of slick skin slapping and cries of pleasure filling the air, thick with the scent of sweat and sex. The bed was jolting mightily to the same rhythm we were. Blaine was everywhere – his hands were roaming my back, moving up to twist into my hair, then slipping down to grab my ass or tug my thigh higher; his chest slid against mine, our skin slick and hot; his leaking erection pinned between our stomachs.

"I love you," I babbled. "I love you so much, I love you, I love you, I love you…"

"L-love you too Kurt," Blaine gasped, "so much."

We moved together in sync, an almost unbearable thrill building inside me, only growing stronger with each thrust as we sped up. I tried tilting my hips slightly to hit Blaine's prostate, and judging by the way Blaine actually _screamed, _shamelessly high and loud, I had the angle right.

I felt a familiar tightening in my balls, heat pooling in my stomach and my vision going white at the edges, and I knew it wouldn't be long now.

"I-I'm so close," Blaine warned me, and I nodded to signify I was too, unable to form words at the moment. I reached between our bodies with a shaking hand and wrapped my fingers loosely around Blaine's stiff cock, heavy in my hand. I only gave it one pump, thrusting hard into Blaine's heat, before both of us were spilling over the edge.

I could actually feel the pleasure becoming too much for me to physically bear – it took over every cell in my brain and tightened every muscle, crashing over me and drowning me like a wave. It wasn't until I heard Blaine cry out my name at the same time I shrieked his that I realized why it was so intense – we had come at the same time, our pleasure doubled and echoing strongly between us.

Blaine's cum shot out across our stomachs and over my hand, my own cock pulsing inside him as I released spectacularly. My vision was white and Blaine was all I could feel, all around me as the orgasm became so overwhelming that it felt like I was falling, falling into an empty white abyss, with no sign of stopping.

~.~.~.~

Some barely conscious part of my brain registered that this was what Blaine had been talking about. This was what happened when soul mates made love, the thing that really set it apart from just having sex with random strangers.

I wasn't Kurt anymore. Nor was I Blaine. We were one thing, impossible to distinguish from each other, just floating in a world apart from any we had ever known. We didn't know anything about where we were, we couldn't even see – but we did know for absolute certain that this, being one, was the single most perfect feeling known to man. We couldn't lose each other this way, because we _were _each other. There was no possible way for anything to be hidden between us, nothing keeping us from loving each other as much as mentally possible.

Pleasure still pulsed inside us, hot and strong, but we had lost all concept of time. Time didn't matter compared to what we were feeling – completion, security, fulfillment.

But somehow we knew we would have to separate soon, for we could already feel it beginning to happen. Gradually we were divided, and I could feel the elements that made me Kurt diverging from those that made me Blaine, until I was just Kurt, feeling the presence of my other half right beside me.

~.~.~.~

I very reluctantly opened my eyes, my body still humming with the aftereffects of our orgasm, as if something that incredible could even have a name. It was strange being in a single form again, instead of an indefinable one meshed with Blaine's.

I could feel him beneath me, both of us having blacked out for who knew how long. As my vision came into focus, I could see him looking at me with a dreamy look in his eyes. His beautiful eyes. I smiled lazily at him, my brain still not quite functioning properly. God, he was so beautiful. I had never felt more like his soul mate than I did in that moment.

Blaine grinned back at me dopily, probably just as stupid from coming as I was. It was then that I realized our Connection had gone back down to normal levels, for which I was glad, because I was still very sensitive and getting another boner this soon surely couldn't be good.

I was so spent, my limbs feeling like jelly and my whole body tingling, a feeling of utter peace spreading through me.

Taking a deep breath, I snuggled deeper into Blaine's side, his arms wrapping around me securely and his fingers toying with my hair. I closed my eyes, enjoying the moment while it lasted.

"This is it," Blaine laughed quietly, sounding giddy.

"This is what?" I mumbled against his chest.

"My dream," he said softly, turning his head so that his lips were right at my ear. "Being one half of a whole."

I smiled, kissing his skin, still slightly slick with sweat. "I'm so proud to be your other half," I sighed, feeling myself begin to drift off to sleep.

The last thing I heard before I completely went to sleep was Blaine's very soft whisper:

"I've been looking for you forever."

**~.~.~.~**

** Okay…I'm crying. I'll admit it. I hope that smut was okay. I've never written one before, so I was kind of lost (not to mention I'm a virgin but when you read fan fiction that doesn't really matter).**

** I'm working on Blaine's point of view right now – the first chapter should be up next week. I know it sounds boring to read the same story over again, but nearly every scene will be new and the ones that aren't will have brand new elements to them.**

** So…wow, this is it. The last time I write a new chapter of this story. Huh. It's a weird feeling, I'll miss Kurt's point of view, he's so much easier to write than Blaine. But I can't wait for you guys to find out a secret about this story that I've been keeping up my sleeve, to be revealed at the end of Blaine's point of view. Muahahaha.**

** REVIEW = PREVIEW of Blaine's point of view.**


	17. Author's Note

**Author's Note: The first chapter of Blaine's POV is up! The story is called Rainbow Connection :)**


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